


I Craved For Less Miserable Times

by mika_does_retcon



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anxiety, Blood and Injury, Chaptered, Child Abuse, Childhood Memories, Crossdressing Armin Arlert, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Escape, Established Relationship, Family Loss, Fluff and Angst, Gender Roles, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Matter of Life and Death, Minor Violence, Nostalgia, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character Eren Yeager, Out of Character Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Out of Character Mikasa Ackerman, Physical Abuse, Plans For The Future, Protectiveness, Rating May Change, Religion, Retcon, Secret Relationship, Separation Anxiety, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan References, Sleep Deprivation, Threats of Violence, Treason, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22879462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mika_does_retcon/pseuds/mika_does_retcon
Summary: The constant disheartening unsuccess rate of Levi's Squad missions slowly transformed most of Commander Levi's inferiors - himself included - into bitter caricatures of themselves. The team's frustrations ricocheted off of each other, some being struck deeper and more painful than others, and transformed the Survey Corps into a miserable place to escape from. In Jean's mind, nothing, including Eren's life and his supposed key to saving humanity, was worth fighting for anymore.Priorities inevitably change over time, but Jean's desire to peacefully live away from war with Armin dangerously rebelled against the oath and dedication he pledged to the Survey Corps at fifteen. The fate they chose, or if they decided to leave, would eventually kill them. But...how satisfied would they be if they had never attempted to trial their life away?What extreme measures will they have to take to avoid the Survey Corps' equally as extreme consequences? Not only for their escape, but their sinful status as lovers.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	1. Do You Remember That Day?

From the moment Jean began dating Armin, he dreamed of nothing more than a peaceful, blissful, and modest domestic life with him. 

An indescribable magical feeling overcame Jean - as a young, ambitious but naïve fifteen-year-old kid - when he daydreamed about retiring from the Survey Corps to reside in a small friendly village together. While living location or architectural appearance didn't concern Jean in the slightest, the artist inside of him imagined a house with rusty coloured red bricks for the exterior, or perhaps dull, earthy timber instead. Functionality trumped appearance during the harsher seasons, so a fireplace and an effective ventilation system remained high on Jean's priority list. 

Jean imagined a grassy backyard flourishing with healthy strands of green grass and thick bushes of aromatic purple or white native wildflowers. Tiny wooden toys and other colourful children's playthings might be scattered across their yard, within the tangles of grass, momentarily abandoned by their young owners, preoccupied with other immature worries of their world. Though, Jean knew _that_ part of his fantasy wouldn't emerge without discussion many years into the future. As mutual victims to a lack of siblings, a modest family with two or three children is an opinion Jean and Armin shared.

His personal favourite vision remained identical each and every time; Jean imagined sitting with Armin on top of their roof, wordlessly admiring the sunset. Their traumatic memories and experiences of their time as soldiers of the Survey Corps would sink with the fiery star behind the wall. 

But, as time dragged on, forcing the couple to mature beyond their years, Jean realised his desire grew stronger, but realistic chances of consolidation grew slimmer. Jean and Armin dedicated a majority of their teenaged years to Levi's Squad and the Survey Corps, becoming studiously intertwined within the deep expansive history and lore of the Titans, while more secretly seriously involved with each other, growing closer and deeper in love. Stress and strain negatively affected each and every single one of Levi's squad. This shared trauma succeeded in creating tension, which remained at an all-time high for years. Warmth and fond memories that once existed seemed to evaporate from everybody's minds; Levi's Squad continued to be a team, but the treatment of one another demonstrated anything but co-operation. 

Levi tirelessly overcompensated for the various deaths of his superiors, friends and colleagues. The counterbalance he provided stretched him utterly thin and rendered him nefariously unpredictable - so much so that his living superiors often overlooked his behaviour and dismissed any complaints. Stress aged him immensely, in turn aging and terrifying his teenaged inferiors. Sasha and Connie barely smiled or joked, and hadn't done so in years, as their reliance on comedy to ward off their trauma would be rewarded with a beating or equally harsh punishment. Eren's worsening attitude continuously weighed everybody down particularly as Levi's rough, distrustful treatment of him murdered his esteem. Thus, not even Armin could calm or appeal to him anymore without being hurt in the process. Mikasa tirelessly dedicated her life to Eren, imploring that the rest of the squad adopt her principles. Which they had done...to an extent. 

As Survey Corps, the unspoken rule of protecting Eren's fate for humanity quickly defined their objectives. However, whether his hatred for Eren or the enormous, albeit selfish, value he placed on his own life, Jean never understood the inherent need to perform as Eren's bodyguards. Hell, he'd risked his life numerous times in the past as his unwilling body double. Jean's natural ability to adorn a leadership role found him acting as Levi's aide, though the older man barely entrusted him with many difficult tasks. Armin sympathized with Jean's hatred of group culture, as well as the aversion to the underlying mandatory loyalty to Eren's life. _This_ wasn't the soldier life either of them applied for. 

The brunt of all emotions, frustrations, abuse and neglect from practically all of the squad members was unfortunately shouldered by Armin. Confident never truly defined Armin, but Jean helplessly watched him deteriorate with stress and wither over the years. 

The dream Jean callowly conjured, and eventually divulged to Armin and shared by Armin in a fit of fondness and vulnerability during a hushed talk of their future under the thin sheets in their dorm room, slipped further and further away like an unattainable, forbidden goal. 

A particularly pernicious fight that ended with him receiving a swelling black eye one day, where Jean engaged in a physical fight with Eren after he threatened Armin, after deciding to not give a fuck about the possible disastrous consequences, pushed the brunette past his tolerance levels. The only semblance of placid relaxation Jean received over the years occurred when he and Armin found themselves alone. Though it was difficult to be open with each other under Levi's harsh gaze and watchful eye, but the couple always found a way. They truly supported each other, and Jean remained eternally grateful; he could slaughter an entire village, yet Armin's steadfast encouragement wouldn't falter a single inch. 

"Thank you for defending me." Armin's voice penetrated his thoughts in a soft, welcoming fashion. Heavy white clouds cloaked the sun as if to set a sombre mood for their conversation barely inches away from the front of their squad's base. Any chance spent outside of the suffocating base was eagerly accepted. Moments to sit on the grassy terrain and relax were rarely granted. 

"Of course. He shouldn't be saying shit like that, especially to you. And I wouldn't want you to be walking around with a black eye for weeks like last time," Jean justified, but the clarification was unneeded. No matter how severely his fists ached, or the unfair, painful punishments or injuries he received, Jean would defend Armin again in a heartbeat. 

"Just...take it easy next time. Otherwise, you'll make Levi go too far," he gently advised. The last thing either of them needed was for Jean to be kicked out of the Survey Corps. Or worse. 

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," Jean sighed, gazing out to the expansive landscape as best as he could with an ice pack covering his eye. Numerous villages sat scattered along the horizon, and Jean swore he felt a hollow sense of longing inside of him. That perhaps their lives would be better spent in solitude residing in one of the many villages, and escaping from everything. "How good would it be if we could just stand up, and walk away from it all?"

Tilting his head with a gentle, but confused, smile, Armin appeared sceptical. "Mm! Definitely," he agreed, brushing golden blonde strands that the gentle breeze thrust in front of his eyes. Though Armin entertained the daring proposal, part of him inexplicably saddened - somehow, Armin doubted they'd ever grasp that non-existent opportunity. 

Detecting how brooding Armin became, Jean playfully grinned in order to provide some sort of humorous catharsis. "Okay! Let's go tell Levi to fuck himself, and live in the village on the left," Jean chuckled, gesturing to the biggest village situated on the left side of the landscape. 

"Hmm..." Armin exchanged amused smiles with Jean, pretending to mull his offer over. "I think prefer the one on the right." 

"We'll go there instead, then!" Jean succumbed. Venting his frustrations to Armin never ceased to settle his emotional state. To Armin, however, a desire he never realised he possessed had been unlocked. 

Because the thought of leaving never truly left Armin's mind.

Almost three tense, misery ridden years passed since Levi's Squad first established headquarters in their current base when the small moment of clarity hit Armin like a painful, but much needed, ton of bricks. Though Jean only jokingly introduced the suggestion of leaving, Armin couldn't deny the small thrill twisting his stomach to anxious knots. 

The soldier life they journeyed left Armin unfulfilled. Nothing regarding the value of death and self-sacrifice when the situation required felt rewarding or sustainable. Armin and his friends were groomed and trained to defend humanity, not to be judged on their usefulness as a human pawn. In the most disheartening way possible, Armin slowly uncovered harsh realities; his friends wore cold faces in contempt of the corrupted world around him and his superiors transformed into power hungry, flawed, terrified authority figures. Leaving, even as a light-hearted joke, was not a viable option anymore. Anybody caught abandoning and betraying their cause would have an execution in their fate. Armin bitterly acknowledged, like being stubbornly caught in a poisonous thorn bush, he'd also be killed even if he remained in Levi's Squad, one way or another. 

Jean remained his only constant as the boy he'd fallen in love with at the tender, impressionable age of fifteen, only growing taller and stronger. His default face hardened to sharp, rigid stone but he'd never once lost his wide, confidence exuding smile. The only person privileged enough to witness the wild sight was Armin, shielded by the crumbling, tattered ruined confinements of the abandoned church merely feet away from their base. Nobody recalled the moment months between the building finished construction to its eventual abandonment and slow destruction. No matter the circumstances of its ruin or fabrication, that became Jean and Armin's new place of rendezvous; far enough from their team members' paranoid eyes, close enough to maintain a proper patrol. 

Admiring Jean's breathtaking radiance as he absentmindedly leaned against the only intact window frame, bathing in the rich amber afternoon light, Armin's thoughts of leaving for _both_ of their sakes collided with bold, shaky decisiveness like a second ton of bricks. Jean and Eren's antagonism continued to worsen as the years ticked on, with Levi and Connie joining in on the occasional basis. Clearly, Jean grew closer and closer to his breaking point, the wariness utterly evident with exhaustion as the entire world seemed to fight him every step he took. Armin continued to slowly wander along the faded, dust stained rug on the church's stage, feet softly padding against the wooden floors underneath, until he gained the breath and courage to express his desire. 

"Jean?" Armin halted, holding his breath as he watched the glittering white dust slowly rise around his ankles, joining the white specks in the air. He wasn't afraid to inhale the dust, but was rather afraid the confession that would escape him. The church now remained silent between the two of them, creating a loud, thumping wave of white noise against his ear drums. 

"Mm?" He hummed noncommittally, gaze still focused outside. 

"Do you remember...I think it was almost two years ago, when you talked about, um...leaving?" He questioned, finding his voice slightly wavered. 

At the mention of their shared joke over three years ago, Jean slowly turned to look at Armin with wide, surprised eyes. Memories suddenly flooded back to him, distinctly feeling that same desire once again, and wondering how Armin managed to detect the subtle hint of truth within his words. Armin's insecure stance on the highest point of the church's stage heavily affected Jean's heart with a strong throb, because vulnerable truth scribed itself into Armin's round features. A joke hadn't been verbalised this time, but a suggestion of action. Never in Jean's life did he expect Armin to initiate such an adventurous topic, especially with how determinedly bold, and perhaps a little afraid, he came across. 

"Yeah. I do," Jean confirmed quietly. The moisture in his throat seemed to be absorbed by dust, dry air and suffocating dread. 

"Do you still want to? Leave...I mean?" Sound echoed around them once more, combining Armin's thumping heartbeat and his single sigh of solace with Jean's footsteps across the carpet and hardwood while approaching him to eventually lose itself in the open space for the nonexistent roof. Descending the two short stairs to meet Jean halfway between the pews, Armin allowed him to bundle and grasp his smaller hands, squeezing them tightly against the middle of his chest. 

"B-Because I can't _take_ it anymore, Jean-" Armin's desperation to explain his reasoning almost bubbled over like scalding hot water. 

"Shh, wait," he hushed Armin before he could blurt out his thoughts. Jean glanced around them to inspect the area for their squad members overseeing their patrol and their whispered conversation. 

It seemed only natural that Levi's squad's developed paranoia infected them, half-expecting constant suspicion surrounding their closeness. Jean's hurried observation was important, however, because if anybody overheard what Armin suggested, or caught their less than platonic contact, they would be executed with a single slice of Levi's blade. Society and the Survey Corps placed treason and homosexuality as the most heinous sins - punishable by death. The state of the world around them, scrutinizing a trait about himself that he couldn't change, never ceased to shake Jean to his very core. Without a brief surveillance and awareness of their surroundings before thoughtlessly brushing their fingers or murmuring words of affection, Jean knew the carelessness would lead to a confrontation

Armin's smart mouth and quick wit saved them countless times in the past. But today, it wouldn't be possible. Just by holding Armin's trembling hands and watching his calm composure slip away, sharing that same source of terror, was evidence to Jean that Armin was in no position to persuade anybody and keep their best kept secret. It was an absolute miracle they had kept their relationship hidden for three years. 

He was content that they were finally alone. "I know, I know, I feel the same," Jean sighed, stepping closer as Armin's fingers twisted themselves into the creases of Jean's buttoned up shirt. 

"Good...good!" Armin laughed softly in all but amusement, unable to stop trembling like a crack addict. 

Verbally confirming what frightened them most was planning for their potential demise - an easy trip into Death's hands. However, staying with the Survey Corps would eventually kill them, too. Even though their fate destined to kill them, dying as a soldier seemed more favourable, more noble, than homicide as a traitorous coward who abandoned their cause. Jean decided he didn't care about the stained his reputation became after leaving Levi's Squad and the Survey Corps. He and Armin could potentially be on the run for the rest of their lives, but any dangers or risks were deemed inferior compared to man-eating Titans, scornful and detached teammates, and the inability to freely love Armin however he pleased. 

Leaving was no longer realistically a choice - now, escape was their only goal.

"You wanna go? Then we'll go. Anywhere we want, okay?" Jean insisted, voice low with impulse. Even _he_ couldn't mask his shaky fear from the smaller boy.

As wonderful as immediately turning their backs to Levi's Squad sounded, Armin's stomach dropped, extremely unsettled. There was potential that something could, and would, go wrong if they didn't hash out a plan beforehand. 

"We need to make a plan first," Armin reasoned with a gentle, thin tone. His fingers pressing against Jean's hard skin over his shirt in order to calm him and begin to convince him against his wild ideas. 

But Jean's gleaming, chocolaty brown eyes displayed that he had no immediate signs of backing down. "This is the perfect opportunity to leave while all of their backs are turned! We didn't even act suspicious before when we left. Maybe they'll assume we got kidnapped or something," Jean quietly implored. 

Luckily, Armin's sanity wasn't persuaded, enabling him to think logically. If he and Jean escaped now, Levi would _definitely_ see them, capture them and kill them. On the slim chance they managed to successfully escaped the base, they would be lost, vulnerable to risk and clueless, homeless, penniless. Their romantic relationship was a massive source of contention; how would two men living together appear to the public? It wouldn't matter, because Levi and the rest of the squad would most certainly hunt them down. People who pass by the base are spotted by the commander himself, so the kidnapping scenario Jean suggested would not even be considered in the beginning. Collecting their bearings and devising a plan, and a real fighting chance at surviving in the world together seemed miserably unattainable at this point. 

God, the amount of ways they might perish made Armin woozy. Jean's eagerly anxious cajoling affected him greatly, but Armin prided himself on his planning, and kept his head clear. 

"Listen to me," Armin's hands migrated to Jean's face, ensuring that he was truly listening to what he had to say. Voice barely raising above a whisper, his disapproving blue eyes bore into the taller's brown eyes. "If we want to leave, we need to think, and plan, _properly_ first."

"Armin-" Jean began to protest, but Armin drew him down further

"-if we leave now, Levi will catch us and Levi will murder us. He will _not_ think we're kidnapped. All of this talk will be for nothing if you don't calm down and think for a moment." A single, impulsive fuck-up could ruin them for life. Or what little life they had left. Armin smiled ever so slightly, and somewhat sadly, as Jean's eyes softened with realisation and agreement. "You know this. This is why we're both scared and want to leave in the first place. Be scrupulous, okay?"

Jean knew Armin was correct - he'd be a fool to ignore his plight. The idea of painstakingly planning for days, weeks, or months, threatening to border on years, filled Jean with a stomach twisting, nauseous anxiety. The lack of timeline horrified him to his core. Plus...he didn't want to die before he could fully enjoy his freedom with Armin. Not for the Survey Corps, or _because_ of the Survey Corps, not for Levi, or Eren, or for humanity. 

"Yeah...yeah, you're right," Jean breathed, grinning fretfully. Neither of their voices or limbs would cease their shaking, even while gripping each other with tight, frightened grips. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to get so worked up. I'm just so fucking terrified." 

Armin's pulse practically palpitated at his throat, the thick, sour taste of fear burning his esophagus like acid reflux. "It's okay. I am too, but we're leaving and we'll be fine."

He wasn't entirely sure of himself but Jean's firm nod reassured him in the most comforting way. And thus, they planned their escape. 


	2. We Made An Impulsive Pact To Leave Together

The proper discussion and decision planning began gradually over the course of two weeks. With barely any scheduled time together to debrief over their mutual confessions, Jean's and Armin's thoughts, fears and anxieties manically circulated within their minds. The church became their one and only safe haven for discussion outside of the base's walls, too do anything other than _look_ at each other briefly in case their future betrayal was written all over their face. 

Pretending to play their usual parts was difficult, but it all went to plan, then they wouldn't have to worry anymore. 

Finally, their patrol schedules lined up, allowing them to progress on with their plan. The early dawning sunrise acted as their backdrop for the morning, gradually brightening from sleepy, dark blue to a rich golden as their futures' discussion would take shape...hopefully. Arriving in the roofless church provided the boys with an immediate sense of relief and breathability. The Survey Corps' uniform seemed to adorn an invisible choker to keep their soldiers barely breathing, but alive; barely silent, but unable to say a single word. In the corner of the church, right where the loose, creaky floorboards lay, was the sweet spot; a median plane between observing the expansive field for their patrolling duties, and hiding in plain sight from their base just metres away. 

"So...you're one hundred per cent sure about still leave?" Armin clarified softly, kneeling on the rotting wooden floor next to Jean. His hands already became stained with the ashy dust coating the wood - hopefully Levi didn't punish them too harshly for their dirty uniforms. 

"Yeah," he answered smoothly. "More than sure. I wanna be far away from this fucking place as soon as possible. What about you - how are you?"

"Fine," Armin confirmed. 

Internally, their biggest fears centred around the inability to decipher the other's opinion about their plan. Coupled with the inability to discuss their suggestions they had been considering over the passing weeks, the time for affirmation couldn't have arrived quicker. Honesty and trust always remained the most important qualities in their relationship, after all - who else could they trust in this world if they couldn't rely on each other?

Glancing up into the roofless gap on top of the building, Jean noticed the shade of blue lightened considerably since their patrol began minutes ago. Time was now their most precious resource and Jean would be damned if he allowed anymore to slip between their fingers. 

"We probably have until sunrise to talk about this today," Jean estimated, wondering if they would have the opportunity to discuss everything they desired. "That leaves us with around thirty minutes from now."

"And that should be enough time to think about a base plan," Armin added. Millions of thoughts soared through his mind in the attempt to categorise them from most important to least, from safest to unsafe, from realistic to unrealistic. The major goal was utterly clear, but the path they had to pave in order to reach that goal would take heavy considerations. 

"Do you have anything in mind?" The brunette questioned upon seeing Armin's wide, deep in thought eyes and wistful expression. 

"Sort of...to be honest, I'm unsure how possible a clean, easy break will be." Armin's admission was not surprising in the least. 

"Knowing Levi, which we do, it won't be easy in the slightest," Jean crossed his arms, continuing to observe the base every now and then for the sight of another scout. 

"Right. Then there's also the issue of where we're going to go. And where we're going to live. Are we going to blend in with society or would it be safer to remain in hiding for the rest of our lives? How would we safely achieve either of those? Not to mention what exactly do we need to survive in the first place..." Trailing off to continue his monologue mentally, Armin truly began to internally panic. Somehow, conjuring battle plans and instructing troops seemed easier than planning with Jean - there would be nobody to pick up any errors or hesitance. Whatever Armin decided would be their fate for the rest of their lives. 

"That's, uh, more than one issue," he pointed out, initial confidence faltering.

"Any ideas?" Armin questioned uneasily. 

"Well...I think it would be better to live in a village so we can have a better chance of blending in. We could stay in one place then move around later if it's necessary," Jean slowly proposed like an improvisational speech. "I like the idea of having a normal life after leaving all this, y'know, like we always used to talk about." 

A small, dreamy smile stretched over Armin's lips, and Jean happily realised he had assisted in prioritising Armin's thoughts. "That sounds really nice," he agreed. "I suppose the first thing we need to discuss is where to relocate. Staying within Wall Rose would be optimum, as the gates are always guarded. The Military Police would never let us pass into Maria or Sina without Levi as proof of involvement in the Survey Corps." 

"And we couldn't dress like civilians if Levi already alerted of two runaway scouts. It's a larger area, too," Jean agreed. Now that their discussion was heading in some direction, he felt more at ease. 

"Let's look at Levi's nap sometime today. Then we can regroup later." From memory, Armin attempted to visualise the map he analysed many times for coordinates, though he wouldn't have to rely on his brain for long when Jean pulled a folded piece of parchment paper from his uniform jacket's pocket. Spreading the paper on the dusty wooden boards revealed a quick but fairly impressively accurate detailed sketch of the map. The only differences between Jean's sketch and Levi's map was the messy black scribbles smudged over the Shiganshina and Trost Districts. Jean, for obvious reasons, did not consider Armin's destroyed childhood home or the village where Jean's mother resides; it would be far too risky. 

"No need, babe!" Jean relished in the grateful grin Armin supplied. He continued to smooth out any wrinkles. "Got any preferences?"

Pensively, the map was studied for a few silent minutes to cite out major locations they recognised from travelling with their squad. Birds chirping echoed from their perches near the top of the roofless church and the hollow sound of the gentle breeze squeezing through each and every open gap pleasantly accompanied their silence. Once the wildlife began to rise, the time they once had was quickly running dry. Armin tucked his hair behind his ear as he leaned over the map. 

"We're here," Armin pointed to the grassy area south of Wall Rose. He then slid his index finger across the paper until it hovered over a village northwest to the wall. "And this is where we collect our supplies every month. We're familiar with this path so perhaps we could choose any of the smaller villages along the way. Or...I do have another idea." 

"What is it?" Jean prompted, glancing up at him from the map. 

Drawing in a small sigh, Armin tapped the village where they collect their supplies once more. "My parents used to own a small house in this village. You know how they wanted to travel outside of the walls, which was impossible for them at the time. Well, before they eventually _did_ venture outside of the walls, we would come here, usually once or twice a year, just to satisfy their curiosity for travelling." 

Jean's eyebrows raised considerably. "Jesus, you never told me that," he spoke in awe. 

"I know, I'm sorry, I should have definitely said something earlier," Armin sat back from his knees, back against the flimsy, cold wall. He always recalled how happy his parents were each time they temporarily resided in that house; the new location and scenery didn't excite them in the least, but the long journey they ventured on. Learning about every single structure, every person, every particle of dust and every atom, right down to its chemical network within the walls was a mere substitute. Though Armin became disheartened, he was at least grateful he and Jean could access momentary hope for their own journey. 

"It's fine, honestly," Jean dismissed, curious at Armin's melancholic expression. It dawned on Jean that there were still a couple of things he wasn't aware of in Armin's life before the Survey Corps. "What happened to it?"

"When they died, they left the house to me. As far as I know, it should be still standing and unoccupied," he explained. 

"Does anyone know about this?" Warily cautious, Jean assumed that families or properties owned by families to the Survey Corps would be raided for them first. 

"No - not even Eren or Mikasa. Or the Survey Corps. Legally, the house belongs to me, but because I'm a minor, the Survey Corps might have forced me to surrender it or take ownership of it for themselves," Armin assured, secretly glad that he had listened to his parents' advice of secrecy. 

"Good, that's smart, but I wouldn't have expected any less from you," Jean happily complimented before appearing troubled. The issue of visually confirming its existence stood in their way. Not to mention that village is where Levi's Squad collects their monthly supplies from, which is their biggest risk to overcome. 

Armin read his apprehensive look. "If we assume the base stays stationary from when we leave, then it will be easier to predict the squad's movements and avoid them when they do stop by," he concluded, tapping his chin astutely. "And I can scope the neighbourhood out on our next supply run, which is tomorrow." 

"That _does_ sound pretty damn risky, Armin," he warned. 

"I understand, but I think it's the only realistic chance we have access to at this point. We don't have the luxury to search for anything else, and it's much safer than living on the streets." When a plan perfectly materialises, Armin embodies a visceral sense of hesitance, becoming unsure of himself. This time, Jean noticed, Armin seemed more confident than ever. 

"I think it's a plausible plan, I really do, but are you sure we'll be able to stay safe?" Jean bit his lip, conflicted. 

"That worries me, too," Armin sighed before shaking his head. "We don't have to decide right now but we can just consider it. I know the route doesn't extend to the neighbourhood, just around the town centre near the entrance."

Everything seemed to be falling into place much too quickly and much too conveniently for his tastes. With Armin uncharacteristically formulating a plan he truly believed in for once, Jean didn't possess the drive to express his doubts. The time for revision and alterations would come later.

"...if you're for this, then I am too," the brunette decided. 

"Okay," Armin affirmed anxiously, though filled with even more questions. "I'm still unsure when the best time to leave would be."

"Night-time would be a good option. We can get away on foot easily and make a good distance in that time. It might take a while to get to the village but a thief criminal charge on top of treason wouldn't be great if we do get caught," Jean shuddered, imagining the punishment would be doubly worse. 

"Levi can usually see everything from his room supervising no matter _who_ is on overnight perimeter watch. Evading him could be possible. If one of us were scheduled on shift, the other could sneak out of bed to meet outside." Levi's base wasn't an impenetrable fortress; weak spots must exist even if their plan involved them sneakily crawling underneath Levi's window sill just to grasp a fighting chance of escaping. 

"We should pick a night you're on patrol," Jean offered to take on the risky burden of leaving his room at night. 

"Why?" Armin disagreed. "Mine and Eren's room is closest to the door so it'll be easier if we choose a night you're on patrol. Besides, you know how squeaky the floorboards are down the hallway." 

"Eren's such a light sleeper. There's no way he wouldn't wake up to you leaving the room in the dead of the night unless he's done some vigorous titan shifting during the day," the brunette countered. "Connie, on the other hand, sleeps like he's dead." 

"You'd have to walk past Mikasa, Eren _and_ Levi to leave the base, Jean," Armin reminded. "I would only have to deal with Eren." 

"We can argue about who's going to sacrifice themselves later!" Jean exasperatedly ended the discussion with a bitter wave of his hand. "Besides, we don't even know when we're going to leave, or how we're going to blend in if we're successful."

"Mm, you're right," he agreed, clueless. "I really had no ideas for that aspect of our plan aside from dressing as civilians." When Armin visualised their escape, he assumed everything would fall into place so easily. 

However, Jean had been thinking about this intensely. "We could always forge citizen papers," he suggested. "One or two years back, the Military Police were investigating a black-market case where corrupted government officials were creating illegal documents for citizen wanting to change their name or their gender, or marry when their cases weren't accepted." A few members that Jean kept in contact with personally handled the case. It sparked the resistance against allowing people to denounce the Survey Corps as its soldiers were purchasing the illicit documents and escaping. Most of the time, they failed - Jean sincerely hoped that didn't happen to them. 

"I never heard about that. The documents have to be somewhat real if the government, legitimately or not, are supplying them, right?" Armin thoughtfully proposed. 

"As far as I know, there is no difference between them except the existence of approval paperwork within the office," Jean explained. For all he knew, the document system may have changed over the two years of running the investigation, or the complete abolishment of the black-market system may have occurred. Running on assumptions was dangerous, but what other drier resources could they work with?

If Armin shared his insecurities, then his excited, accomplished smile didn't reveal it. "If we can find out where to get those papers, we might have a chance!" He confidently exclaimed. 

"I'll look into it, okay?" Jean immediately decided upon himself. "I'll be discrete about it, don't worry. Do you really think it'll work?"

"I think so. Levi wouldn't exhaust the squad's resources physically looking for us once we leave," Armin assumed, as the group would be too busy with their other missions. 

"Right," the brunette agreed. "The Military Police, the lower level graduates at least, would have a portrait sketch or random document inspections. Shit, I think it's possible now."

"So, the plan is; leave during the night, after acquiring our new citizen papers, blend in with the village and live in my parents' house..." He recited then trailed off, exchanging anxious looks with Jean. "Are you happy with this?' 

"Yeah. I'm just worried about what we'll do after. Just...living and surviving. We've never been on our own before," Jean bit his lip, considering how to sustain their future. 

"I'm scared as well. I think we'll be okay, but let's focus on one thing at a time before we talk about the smaller concerns," Armin leaned forward to squeeze his hand comfortingly. 

While this place threatened to break their morals and traumatise them for life, being members of the Survey Corps provided basic necessities like light, heat, water, and nutrition when food shortages weren't ravishing the villages. To currently worry about the future when unpredictable events could disrupt their plan was useless. Adult responsibilities, like finances, income and how to take care of themselves never immediately occurred to Armin. The Survey Corps partially shielded them in a dependent, suffocating bubble that impacted their maturity and the way they interacted with the world. 

"You're right; that's for the best," Jean concurred as a sudden blinding golden light hit his eyes. The sun coincidentally began to rise just as their discussion ceased. "C'mon, we should get back to the base before Levi becomes suspicious." 

With their discussion fresh in the forefront of his mind, Armin's thoughts revolved entirely around scouting his family's home location during the supply run the very next day. What made matters worse was the inability to sneak away for a single second when they arrived at the town. The crowds may have been busy enough for Armin to easily slip away, but under Levi's gaunt hazel eyes, he couldn't escape. Terror clutched Armin's throat, practically hearing the proverbial clock ticking its countdown to leaving inside of his mind the closer their departure crept up on the squad. 

Armin restlessly fidgeted while packing various supplies into their carts. Filled to the brim with items that would last them for months, Armin attributed the overstocking to Levi's anxiety. Grains, seeds, herbs, cleaning and medical supplies, firewood, and tools for the repairing their 3D manoeuvre gear were Levi's main concerns each month. Firewood, due to Levi's insistence, seemed to be overabundant on their base from the forests of trees Levi ordered them to cut down when they first moved. The claim of enabling a wider breadth of vision across the field to identify incoming enemies never made sense to Armin. 

As he categorised the medical supplies with Historia, Armin curiously observed Jean and Mikasa load firewood into their cart. Everybody had been delegated to their own separate jobs to sufficiently distract them, including Levi. They would be leaving in less than ten minutes, and this would be Armin's only chance to locate his parents' house. Not allowing hesitation to frigidly magnetise him to his post, Armin informed Historia of an error on his checklist and his need to correct it with Levi. She barely acknowledged him, but Armin required a somewhat solid alibi. 

"I need you to do something for me," Armin quietly and urgently approached Jean by the cart as the taller boy secured large bundles of firewood for their long, rocky travel. "Can you cover me for five minutes?"

"Where are you going?" Jean immediately retorted with a question of his own. 

"To find my parents' place," he responded. "I don't have a lot of time and this _needs_ to be done."

"Levi's gonna flip his shit if he finds out, Armin. You can't do this now!" Jean asserted with frustration. 

"If he gets angry, or I'm not back in five minutes, just say you overheard me mentioning an error on my checklist," he advised as he gestured to the town clock behind them. "I'll be quick, Jean. I promise."

Warily glancing down at his lover, Jean acquiesced albeit, rather reluctantly. "Five minutes. I swear to God if you're a single _second_ longer than that, I'll be pissed off," he sighed harshly, tying up the rope on his reinforcement bundle and continuing his task. 

"Thank-" Armin began to whisper gratefully, but Jean cut him off. 

"-just go...and stay safe," he demanded, continuing his assigned job as though they hadn't spoken. He didn't expect him to react so harshly, but Armin understood his emotional responses were out of fear and not malicious anger. 

Quickly traipsing through the village while attempting to act nonchalant in order to keep attention away from himself proved to be a difficult task. Various civilians curiously regarded the blonde Survey Corps once he reached the neighbourhood, but Armin was too busy focused on counting down the minutes in his head to be bothered about appearing out of place. All in all, the neighbourhoods and the houses seemed a lot smaller and less wondrous than Armin recalled as a child when he would gaze all around his surroundings while being tugged along by one of his parents. The scenery reminded Armin of his home in the Shiganshina District before he joined the Survey Corps. It truly made him think about what differences his parents discovered between the villages they visited if any existed at all, and what exactly they were eager to explore. 

The long lines of houses in different earthy shades of red, brown and black, of wood or brick or straw, were separated by dusty roads. Children ran and played on the road under the watchful supervision of their parents, who either congregated outside with their neighbours or calmly residing in gardens or front porches. Teenagers in various sized groups all calmly ambled in the same direction; to the town square. Some of these people were his age, yet they stood existed in a world where their only trauma involved a displeased parent or unfinished homework. Armin found his steps slowing to appreciate the familiar essence of domestic life as if his childhood memories and desires flowed through him all at once. 

Something about this village felt safe to Armin. He wasn't sure whether the evident population, or the fact Levi's Squad was never likely to step foot into the neighbourhoods, but in his heart, Armin felt this plan of his would succeed. Though the longer Armin walked down the same road, he began to overwhelm himself with worry. With the closely compacted layout of similarly standing houses, how would it be possible to locate the right one? The only break up between the houses seemed to be the wooden fences and patches of well-kept green grass situated in front. 

One particularly run-down house stood out to him from a distance. The walls were built with dark timber and a slanted black tin roof. In comparison to the lush lawns each house owned, the grass and plants looked stiff, dry, and yellow, barely swaying in the gentle wind. Other fences and gates appeared practically untouched, while the wooden gate hung from its hinges and rot from the various weather conditions in the odd house. Armin concluded the dishevelled appearance was either due to negligent owners, or absent owners - being his deceased parents. 

Armin desperately hoped the reason was the latter. 

He squeezed through the gate, not wishing to accidentally break anything if someone were living in the house. Armin never recalled what the house's exterior resembled. Did he even care about the house's exterior as an ignorant child, too wrapped up in how everything _else_ looked to notice where he would be temporarily residing? Upon closer inspection, the front porch was covered with dust, so much so that his equally dusty footprints barely left a mark on the ground. Armin hesitated, overcome with anxiety before he politely knocked on the door. 

"Hello?" He called to whoever might be inside. "I got separated from my friends, and I was wondering if you could possibly give me directions?"

Armin waited, heart pounding in his throat with fear of confrontation either from somebody living inside or a good Samaritan neighbour. Nobody answered, and Armin assumed nobody was home. Two windows were installed on either side of the door, though the glass was too grimy and foggy to properly examine the inside of the house. He tested the door handle, finding the door easy to open and unlocked. 

"I'm going to come in, please excuse me..." Armin introduced his presence once more to yield the same results. So, he entered the house. 

It seemed like an explosion of nostalgia assaulted him of his breath as soon as Armin entered the house; he had no doubts that he lived here before. It was as if once he stepped through the door frame, every sound from outside disappeared. Apart from being thickly smothered with aging dust, including particles dancing in the sunlit air, every corner of this house unlocked more and more affinity inside of Armin's mind. Armin pushed down the forbidden feeling mixed with melancholy in his chest, he set himself the task of identifying and assessing every single room. 

A wider area of the house contained the kitchen, dining room and living room in one informal, open setting. Armin curiously inspected the fireplace, discovering burnt pieces of charcoal swimming in soot at the base of the firebox. Large wooden bookshelves were placed on each side, filled from left to right with dirty books. Armin traced the spines like they were delicate glass while recalling his mother reading to him in a low, soothing voice. He never understood the words she would speak but rather enjoyed her blissful expression as she read the novel, tiny head resting in her lap. Maybe he could show Jean the myriad of books after clearing them of their dust page by page. 

None of the cabinets in the kitchen held items or perishables - just dust. Would they cook by fire each day, afternoon, and night? Armin couldn't recall how his mother operated in the kitchen but would observe her expertly working in the kitchen from the circular dining table. It made him regret not spending more time with either of his parents before they were taken away from him at such a young age. Instead of in the kitchen, Armin would hideaway in a small, claustrophobic inducing office by the stairs belonging to his father. 

While the walls were once littered with mechanical designs of different, uninvented kinds, or maps with words too sophisticated for Armin to read, they were stripped bare from their last visit. Armin's father would spread each of his illustrations out on any and all surfaces that would hold them for references, then collect them in piles for their journey back to their home in the Shiganshina District. 

Armin slowly closed the squeaky door to the office, cringing at the unnecessarily loud noise. Usually, Armin would talk to himself, making commentary aloud, but the current situation felt too surreal and depressing to conjure a single word. The bedroom and the bathroom were the only rooms left to investigate, then he could re-join his squad back at the town square. As Armin ascended the stairs, he surprised himself by skipping the fourth step as if on instinct. The wooden plank had never been repaired, though his father assigned himself that task, eliciting a horrible high-pitched groan when a fraction of weight leaned on it. So, Armin decided to skip it, a habit that remained strong to this day. 

Every single surface of the bedroom, including the sheets and pillowcases, were caked in a layer of fluffy, clumpy dust. How long did a house have to remain unclean and vacant for this volume of dust to accumulate? The only bit of light penetrating the room weakly luminesced through the tiny window on top of the wall, cascading across a desk, two more bookshelves (to Armin's secret delight) and finally spreading across the bed. Armin noticed two candleholders beside the bed for additional light sources at night. The candles' wax dried in lumps down the body, and the wick had been burnt black but they would still be operational for a while.

Something about this dark, musty room filled him with mingled thoughts of his parents, and Eren and Mikasa. They never knew about this house, but thinking of his parents brought him back to childhood, a phase in his life where Eren and Mikasa reigned prominently. To think those two dark-haired strangers were people he considered close to family seemed distant. It made him absolutely instantaneously _miserable._ Leaving Eren and Mikasa behind would force him to also abandon hopes of reconciliation. It would kill Armin for them to return to their average, caring selves after he left because he would probably drive himself crazy thinking about what their friendships could have been. 

But with Jean, Armin reminded himself, he would be assured consistency. Armin would never live with the insecurity of Jean abandoning, threatening, neglecting, or murdering him. Jean would be his new, loving family. 

Suddenly contrite, Armin realised the bed he once shared with his parents during his childhood is the same one he would inevitably share with his secret, illegal lover. Wherever his parents' spirits might rest, either vengeful or tranquil, Armin hoped they wouldn't be disappointed in their son's decision to live in sin despite the world. The last thing Armin wanted was to ruin their illusion of him but little could be solved; they were dead, and he belonged to the Survey Corps...

Icy dread struck Armin like an electrical current. Precious time that should've been used for a quick assessment and an immediate return back to where the squad congregated - and now he had wasted God knows how much time! Armin practically flew down the stairs, careful not to slip on the amalgamation of dust spread all over the floors, out of the front door and past the dislocated gate. Civilians now openly stared at the frantic Survey Corps soldier running like his life was in danger. Gruesome scenes of Levi beheading him in front of the entire village, driving his sword through his chest, or simply slitting his throat before Armin could utter an excuse possessed him with the momentary determination to run faster. 

Meanwhile, Jean couldn't help but tensely stare at the minute hand of the town clock, ticking slower and slower as time dragged on. Agonising over why Armin was three minutes, and counting, overdue to return wasn't going to help the situation in the slightest, but Jean 

"Okay, let's go," Levi announced, signalling for everybody to board their carts. Jean hesitated while attempting to think of a distraction only for Levi to aggravatedly discover what he attempted to hide. "Where is Armin? I haven't received his checklist yet." 

"He mentioned there was an error in his checklist and said he'd speak to you," Historia interjected before Jean answer. The absolute _last_ thing Jean aimed for was to enrage Levi, but it seemed that from the click of his tongue and a sour scowl, Historia unknowingly ruined his plan. 

"I don't make errors," he haughtily resisted. "Where the fuck is he? We have a schedule to abide by." 

"Sorry, I was readjusting the horses' harnesses. I have the checklist right here and I was wrong, there were no mistakes." Armin appeared from the side of the firewood cart to smoothly explain his lack of response. Every bit of his fear, disappointment, and anger melted upon seeing his lightly flushed face. Had Armin found the location then sprinted all the way back? Either way, Jean was immensely glad to see him even if Levi and the rest of his squad behaved apathetically. Levi snatched the sheet from him to compile it with the rest of the checklists. 

"Next time, communicate right away when I call your name. And check your own mistakes before you accuse me, or you will be punished," Levi coldly stated.

"You _should_ have just accepted mine," Historia argued. 

"Shut up. Let's get moving," he snapped his orders, just like everybody had become accustomed to. 

The threats and the undermining left Armin unaffected, like water off of a duck's back. Despite dawdling in dust and past memories, he safely returned undetected. Seeing his parents' house igniting an ache within him, though Armin was unsure if he was mourning his parents, reminiscing the life he used to live, or eager to enact a plan with Jean. 

"All good?" Jean caught him before he could mount his horse. Armin sensed similar impatience in Jean's eyes, yearning to share everything Armin had experienced. 

"Yeah, it's all good," he answered, knowing that's _exactly_ what Jean needed to hear. 

They, along with the rest of Levi's Squad, progressed along the two-day journey to return to their base. Jean barely remembered the trip back because his mind remained focused on how they were going to obtain forged citizen papers. Unlike Armin's impulsive stealth that day, venturing into the sketchier part of villages for illegal papers required more planning. If they were clumsy during the next part of their plan, the outcome definitely wouldn't be as kind as todays.


	3. Away From The Bullshit, Away From The Corruption

The next phase of their plan involved somehow forging falsified documents and identification. Though Jean introduced the suggestion, he didn't know where to begin in regards to locating the person or people responsible for creating the documents for them, or how to organise an appropriately convenient time to scout them out. Luckily, the Survey Corps library allowed Jean unrestricted access to comb through old records and mission case files. Jean only spent a week searching for the documents he and Armin needed in order to solidify their escape plan. 

According to the case files, black market areas often sprouted in secluded alleyways of random, smaller, less populated areas. A crudely drawn government seal of whatever larger wall they were situated in was usually the characteristic accompanying the document forger. An abundance of smaller villages existed on the outskirts of their base location, so exploring them would be easy but fairly time-consuming. How other Survey Corps members or people seeking identity changes find these places on their own? Not to mention any chance of visiting the villages was forbidden by Levi. 

Jean detested the unsure time-frame, but he strived to remain patient. All in all, almost four weeks had passed since the creation of their plan, and Jean felt they had barely progressed. 

Luck seemed to momentarily lead Jean in the right direction. While on an information-gathering mission Levi delegated to him, Jean found an area similar to what the case files described. Sasha and Connie accompanied him so it would be unwise to scope out the place by himself before bringing Armin along, instead, he took note of its location on his hand-drawn map. Armin became somewhat sceptical when Jean reported his findings but his desire to leave outweighed his momentary dubiousness. 

He had no idea what Armin's brilliant mind conjured for Levi to grant them permission to leave for a single afternoon but he returned with a small list and informed Jean they had a maximum of ninety minutes to complete their secret objective and collect their documents. Sufficiently perturbed and wide-eyed with wariness, Jean and Armin reluctantly walked through the dark alleyway. Hesitance and reluctance forced their hearts to palpitate upon noticing vicious glares directed at their Wings of Freedom crest-like moths to a light. Jean held no doubts that the negative opinion of the Survey Corps influenced their reactions. 

The search and shut-down mission had been postponed indefinitely due to various tumultuous events that required more Military Police and Garrison Legion support (particularly regarding Reiner and Berthold, who were titan-sized thorns in everybody's sides), but Jean still became paranoid that any booth they discovered would be a honey-pot operation or a patrol officer would sneakily report them to Levi. Jean imagined they wouldn't live to see the consequences of their attempted betrayal as Levi would immediately piece together their intentions and behead them before they explained themselves. Remaining inconspicuous and vigilant proved doubly as important now than before. 

A confrontation in the forbidden, criminal part of town worried Jean, but Levi discovering they purposely deceived him terrified him down to his bones. Though Armin by himself would be a vulnerable target, Jean straightened his posture and hardened his expression in the vain attempt to appear unbothered and non-contentious and hide how fearful he felt. This move was unlike anything they had ever dared to achieve in the past; they weren't thinking smart, or strategically. Desperation and fear really forced them into a corner. 

Towards the back end of the alleyway sat an older looking woman, lazily draped over a couple of wooden crates and surrounded by her thick cigarette smoke. Her thin black hair, greying at the roots coloured like salt and pepper, and flimsy wired glasses gave her a much older appearance, though she wasn't wizened in the slightest. Her observant hazel eyes, similar to Levi's, narrowed upon discovering the two timid teens openly staring, contemplating their next move. Deciding to approach her first, Jean exchanged an irresolute glance with Armin before taking a single step forward on the bricked, alleyway floor. 

"Stop," the woman commanded as she raised her skinny arm with an unmistakable warning click of a pistol, stopping Jean dead in his tracks. 

Jean's and Armin's arms immediately raised to face their palms towards her, surrendering immediately. Millions of horrifying thoughts rushed through Jean's mind - all of them centred around her status, her relationship with Levi or the Survey Corps, and if he and Armin would manage to leave this place alive. They brought nothing to protect themselves, either. Neither of the boys moved or swayed a single inch, feeling exposed with every single person's eyes burning holes into their skulls as though attempting to scan their brains for their intentions. They didn't even dare to draw in a single breath through their lungs screamed for oxygen. 

"Are you here on official business, or leisurely business?" She questioned harshly. Her voice rattled almost painfully in her throat, presumably from years of harmful tobacco abuse judging by the cigarette she balanced on her lip, though her malcontent showed no signs of discomfort. 

"W-We-" Jean stammered as though his tongue became numb and thick and his heart pounded with confusion; though he knew what she requested, no answers immediately revealed themselves. Jean's hesitation roused her suspicion further, frown securing itself onto her face like a birthmark. 

"Are you here on official business? Or leisurely business?" She interrupted the brunette with a louder, harsher tone. 

"Leisurely business," Armin answered to test the waters, voice and demeanour much too soft and demanding in comparison to this rougher environment, and certainly too meek to be adorning a position such as a soldier. Blue eyes met hazel over the barrel of the woman's pistol for a count of two silent seconds before she lowered her weapon and sense of protection. Once the myriad of eyes and muzzle of the pistol was no longer staring at them from all angles, Jean and Armin dropped their arms by their sides. 

"What do you want?" The woman queried, suddenly turning uninterested. 

"We need help," Jean implored desperately, gesturing to himself and the blonde behind him. "I swear we're not here to cause trouble for you, or for anybody. Our superiors don't even know that we're here." 

There must have been something fearful, and vulnerable, evident in both of their expressions. Whether the immediate environment around them or their eventual surreptitious plans to escape their squad was held responsible, Jean and Armin accidentally released every bit of anxiety and hesitance surrounding their plan's success to this woman they had just met. After all, she held the possible key to their future, and to her, the two Survey Corps boys exposed themselves as the secretly unnerved teenagers they were. The woman's own guard crumbled the longer she continued to observe their young faces and relented in order to help. 

"Sit down," the woman gestured to the crates in front of her, though she continued to attend to her cigarette for a few seconds longer when they did accept her offer. 

"Thank you. Really," Armin expressed his gratitude but maintained cautiousness. They were threatened with a loaded weapon mere seconds ago, after all, so the moment Armin intuited a strange occurrence, they would immediately retreat. Little urgency existed on the woman's part to delve into their origin story and discover why they requested help. Although Levi's stringent time limit advised him to speed their encounter along quicker, Armin was not inclined to insist upon hurrying somebody who seemed willing to help them. Jean, the more impatient one out of them both, followed Armin's lead but was barely able to disguise the impatience from his expression. The woman offered no name, nor piece of identity or legitimacy for her services, so the boys decided to remain anonymous, too. 

"So," the woman stabbed her cigarette into the corner of her crate, ground down hard as if she were digging a hole into the wood, and flicked the useless blunt into a gap between the bricked floor. Her bitter mien never sweetened, and it translated into her questioning. "What do a couple of Survey Corps kids need my help for? You need fake IDs? Are you relocating? Spit it out." 

Compulsively glancing to his left, right, and all angles possible to be ambushed, Jean answered with as much honesty and earnest once he figured they were safe. "We don't want to be Survey Corps anymore," Jean explained quietly, uncomfortable (but somewhat relieved) finally saying those words aloud to anyone besides Armin. "But the only legal way, I suppose, to leave is to die during combat or be caught while escaping." 

"That's the typical story for all of you soldiers, isn't it?" The woman sympathised, sounding anything but sympathetic. Their cause and motivations were anything but unique to themselves, hence the rapid action the Survey Corps took in the past to eliminate any means of allowing their soldiers to escape. In fact, nothing on this woman's face indicated any sort of shock or horror she might have felt. Maybe she had helped other members in the past, maybe the amount she assisted dulled her emotions to straight apathy. Her blunt chewed up nails she currently inspected seemed more interesting to her than the two nervous boys in front of her. 

"Have you seen other Survey Corps besides us?" Jean questioned, tone dampened with consternation. Jean was unsure how the Survey Corps would classify soldiers who have been suspected to escape; perhaps as missing, or advertised with a reward depending on other possible crimes committed. 

"Yes, I have," the woman confirmed, eyes casting over Jean and Armin properly and lingering. "They were a lot older, however. Compared to them, you appear to be child soldiers, fiercely intimidated by your superiors, that graduated a few years ago. I can't deny you must be in a tough position if you're already searching for means of escaping, right?"

"We're...enmeshed in a smaller, tighter, and much stricter group with heavier restrictions and authority," Armin explained, fingers interlacing as if emphasising their chained bond within the group. 

Somehow, the vague elucidation garnered her attention with a slight cocked brow. "Ah, so you're part of an integral squad, right?" 

"...I suppose you could say that," Armin agreed hesitantly after a small pause. Maintaining anonymity and hoping the woman wouldn't pursue more details remained at the forefront of Armin's mind - even if she were truly a rogue government official as she claimed, any information she acquired could be sold back to the Survey Corps and screw them indefinitely when Levi discovered they were at fault. Luckily, she seemed to understand Armin's inexplicit response and didn't attempt to unravel their situation further. 

"Do you have a plan for how you'll remain hidden if you manage to disband from your squad? Forged documents only provide a sense of security if the Survey Corps dig through files, believe me, I've witnessed it. You'll be in trouble when the Military Police begin to conduct random searches." She lit up another cigarette, slouching against the brick wall behind her. 

"Yes, we do," Armin confirmed. Though, reaffirming the added dangers made him feel queasy. 

"Once you do this, consider yourselves dead. That means no contact with anybody, even your families. They could absolutely expose you, no matter how much you trust them," her adamant, forceful reply made Armin consider Jean's very much alive family. Armin never once assumed Jean would prefer to live with them instead. 

"Our families are dead. They were killed during the first Titan invasion, and we don't trust anybody we're currently affiliated with," Jean responded, immensely astonishing and subduing any doubts the blonde held. Living in his parents' abandoned house alone sounded like a nightmare, regardless if he attempted to escape with or without Jean, as he'd absolutely drive himself insane waiting for Levi to track him down and kill him. In hindsight, Armin knew that if he didn't have Jean on his side, he'd remain confined with the Survey Corps, and eventually die with them, too. Although, would Jean really accept never contacting his mother, leading her to believe her only son perished in combat, for the rest of his life?

The woman in front of them displayed no reaction or offered forced condolences. She wore a brooding, troubled expression; Jean suddenly felt as though she would refuse to help them after wasting their precious time. Even Armin's patience began to wear thin only to have anxiety seep through his cracks. 

"Are all these questions necessary?" Jean questioned, attempting not to come across as annoyed. "Does everybody have to sit through an interview?"

"I agree they're not necessary, and that your lives and backstories are none of my business," the woman acrimoniously frowned towards Jean. Her cigarette balanced between her index and middle fingers so her voice rang as clear as a warning bell. "I don't wish to waste my resources on two kids that aren't smart enough to assess their situation and would get captured and killed within two hours of escaping. I'm assessing your situation to give you advice because I want to help. Understand?"

"...yeah, I understand." Recognising his rash actions were somewhat foolish, Jean decided that following Armin's obedient speak-only-when-spoken-to route was best. 

"Excellent, Now, aside from the Survey Corps pursuing you, the only other issue you will definitely encounter as two new, young, and male faces in a village together is the village itself." She clasped her hands together as she explained further. "Society doesn't take kindly to two men who aren't related to one another living in the same residence because they automatically assume they're romantically involved."

"W-We're not involved with each other like that-" Armin began to defend before her haughty, disinterested hand waved in dismissal. 

"Whether you are or you aren't isn't my business, but people you live with in neighbourhoods will make it theirs. You will appear suspicious to everybody, and that will expose you more. That line of thinking is the most predictable thing you will both encounter, so you should think about splitting up if you want to be safe," she doubled down her fierce stance. Armin attempted to suppress his worries of this woman uncovering their relationship after meeting them fifteen minutes beforehand, as these worries invented the most undesirable situation plaguing his mind if a mere stranger could decipher their involvement, how much had Eren, Mikasa, and Levi noticed? 

"I see..." Armin murmured while observing Jean's stony expression obstructed by his hood's shadow. Additional options for discovery, detainment, and death seemed to pile on top of each other, threatening to squash them under their weight. Suddenly, in a cruel turn of events that disheartened Armin, acquiring shelter and false papers were rendered insignificant in comparison to future happenings they never considered. Next to him, Jean said nothing, though his stony expression cloaked underneath his uniform's hood communicated his displeasure. 

"...look, if you're insistent about living together, then I do have a suggestion mostly involving you," the woman counter-offered. The second her bony finger pointed menacingly, as though she intended on piercing his chest with the digit, in Armin's direction, all the moisture in his mouth and throat evaporated from fear. 

"Me?" Armin's hopelessly intrigued mind pondered over the endless suggestions this woman might have to offer. Although, his curiosity didn't help steady his wavering voice. 

"Yes, obviously you," she insisted while leaning closer to Jean and Armin as if attempting to preserve as much secrecy and anonymity as possible. "If you're adamant about living together, then pretending to be an ordinary heterosexual couple is the best way to go. Let's face it; you look nothing like siblings, you'll be outcasts and severely out of touch with society, to begin with, and any Military Police on the lookout for you both will be less likely to approach. The only downside, for you, is that you'll have to be a woman for the rest of your life. I have no doubts; you're pretty lucky to have a face like that, and that'll keep you out of trouble."

Though the singular suggestion (that Armin was unsure required a proud or insulted reaction) maintained an element of nonchalance, Armin became visibly flustered from the overwhelming issues that arose. Giving up his gender and identity that he'd grown comfortable with over seventeen years frightened him. Simply the thought of playing somebody else, plagued with possibilities of mistakes, inconsistencies, and of course, the major possibility of somebody discovering his identity conflicted with the necessity of Armin's sacrifice. Jean decided to break his silence and react with vicarious indignance in Armin's defence.

"So, you're suggesting that he just...maintain a facade for the rest of his life if he decides to go through with this?" Jean questioned, struggling to accept the woman's suggestion as a viable option. Jean refused to accept her advice because he felt Armin's altering identity might put them in more danger - mainly centred around their safety and discovery. At this point, it was impossible to decipher Armin's feelings on the matter from his blank stare glued to the ground.

"Yes," she agreed. Her light-hearted tone sickly assured Jean that she wasn't joking with them. "What do you think?" 

"I'll do it," Armin answered immediately upon raising his head. There was no doubt in his mind that he would mask his identity to help Jean and himself remain safe. It was a sacrifice he'd be willing to make, over, and over again. 

"What?!" Jean balked as though he had placed his hand on something scalding hot. The sudden exclamation in his voice triggered various heads to turn and glare at the taller brunette soldier. Armin knew Jean wasn't aware, and probably couldn't care in the slightest, of the sudden negative attention. "You cannot seriously be considering this!"

"Well...I am," Armin replied. "I think it's a good idea; why are you so against it?" 

"Because I think it's way too dangerous, and we're not even going to entertain it," Jean declined on his and Armin's behalf. "If we keep a low profile from civilians, I'm sure we'll be fine and you won't have to pretend to be female." To Jean, accepting all the criticism surrounding them, with little to no baseless proof of their affair, and continuing to move before their situation became too unfavourable would be easier to handle than what would happen if somebody spontaneously discovered that Armin wasn't female. 

"You're going to be in danger either way. That's part of the risk," the woman insisted, frustration evident in her smoke laced voice. 

"He'll be in even more danger if somebody discovers his true identity," Jean argued back. No matter how foolproof his disguise was, the chance that somebody could easily see through Armin existed. Sure, being spotted based on appearances by the Military Police tracking them down for treason posed a ginormous possibility of danger for them - but the Survey Corps remained predictable in their actions. Jean understood what to expect from them, after all, that's where he and Armin grew during their formidable years. 

But civilians, who were involved in various religions, social stigmas, and collective beliefs that would not hesitate violence in the presence of perceived sin to keep the peace and purity in the Titan stained world, remained unpredictable. 

"If you're smart and cautious, he won't be discovered. The added assurance will keep the Military Police's sights off of you," she contested as if she were aware of how every system of the Survey Corps operated. Though, annoyingly enough for their future departure, Jean didn't, either. "If not that, then what are you alternatively planning? You'll be the brunt of all negative gossip for the rest of your lives. At least with him posing as female, you'll be granted invisibility. Otherwise, I guarantee you will draw suspicion." 

"And an oddly young seemingly stereotypical couple, that is also new to a village, won't?" Jean caustically retorted.

"Obviously," she rolled her eyes in response, infuriating Jean further. "You'll just have to be discreet for a while not growing too comfortable in your surroundings. Where is your common sense?"

"My common sense lies with him," Jean pointed towards Armin, who still hadn't uttered a single word and was probably very seriously mulling the idea over. Frankly, Jean was scared he would eventually accept the woman's recommendation because of the added danger he would find himself in. "I'd rather deal with constant bullshit from everyone encased in these walls than force him to live as a woman for the rest of his life!"

At this point, the woman was cycling through cigarettes like she had an endless supply. Jean's stubbornness weighed hard against her, and clearly she was becoming stressed. "You're clearly not understanding my position," she sighed bitterly, fingers running through her coarse, greying hair. "I'm not telling him to transition, or for you to see him as female; just wear a skirt and grow his damn hair out. People won't be inherently suspicious of you both, or hunt for signs you two are 'wanted criminals' on the run."

"You can't know that for sure," Jean hesitated, crumbling under her self-assured confidence. 

"That's your paranoia talking. I wouldn't suggest this if I didn't think it would work. I've been to a lot of places, and trust me when I say that people aren't suspicious until you supply the need to be. You have no idea what civilians are like, especially the smaller collectives because they're like fucking cults, I swear..." she shook her head with distaste. "You don't want to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. If you're so adamant to dwell on hypotheticals, then you'll be more likely to be killed if he doesn't, because you'll have a higher chance of being discovered." 

Merely hearing the violent action pass her lips quickly reinforced Armin's final decision. "I've decided that I'm doing it," he agreed, voice remaining soft. "That's final."

Armin couldn't deny that the prospect of looking so feminine that his appearance would aid their protection humiliated him in the deepest parts of his psyche, but their safety listed high on Armin's priorities. Jean's reluctance was understandable, hell, the small chance of somebody seeing past his feminine disguise to spot his masculine (no matter how minuscule and subtle they appeared) features stirred his anxiety to the point of blood-freezing nausea. But, he'd never pass up an ample opportunity to contribute something to his team which just consisted of him and Jean from now on. 

"You should really think about this first," Jean advised. His brown eyes glanced between Armin's back and forth. Somehow, despite his insistence, Jean knew convincing Armin would be futile. 

"I already did. I really don't think we have a choice. If this is something I need to do to protect us, then I'll do it," he responded, facing the woman and her pleased, and slightly impressed, smile again. "We don't know what people are like. At least we know what we expect from the Survey Corps and Titans." 

"...if you're certain, then I won't stop you from agreeing to this." Jean decided to accept Armin's line of thinking and the unusual amount of confidence he detected on Armin's face. 

"You're definitely making the right choice, kid," she praised in agreement. Though despite her insisting her act of prying was assuredly none of her business, the woman appeared somewhat relieved. Armin's conscience continued to weigh heavily on him as he acknowledged that their tribulations would only increase dramatically from here. Flicking her cigarette off to the side for it to join the accumulative pile next to the crate, the woman reached for the worn leather briefcase and a heavy-looking typewriter to lay on the crate between her and the two Survey Corps. Armin's heart briefly paused in his chest; did they manage to win her approval?

When she pulled a stack of older looking, yellowing papers from the briefcase, Jean recalled the document his mother gave to him on the day he left for training. "How legitimate are those?" He asked warily.

"One hundred per cent legitimate," the woman answered without interest to provide surplus details. With the assumption that she stole real papers in order to work against the government, Jean kept his mouth shut to ward off unjust suspicion. "With these, you can relocate anywhere if you desperately need to as long as you remain within the same wall. I'd avoid attempting to move walls because if an official notices discrepancies, like no existing registry for your fake names, then you'll be in trouble." 

Exchanging looks with Armin, Jean was sure that unless there was a grave emergency, they wouldn't need to even ponder moving from their planned location. The idea of discovery would probably never leave the back of their minds, though. "I don't imagine we'd try that," Jean advocated for them both.

"Good," she concurred as she began to type. "I'll type out details on the forms. It'll only have your names, dates of birth, sex, and the wall of your residence and village. Keep them on you at all times, at least for the first few months. I'll detail you both as eighteen so you can apply for work." 

"What about our old identification documents?" Jean proposed, unable to suppress the anxiety of their discovery. 

"The Survey Corps will have them in their files as a way to disallow you the choice of leaving. They'll be destroyed or returned to living family members under the event of your death. Depending on the situation surrounding your disappearances, the originals may be preserved until they can locate you again if they have any suspicion that you've only managed to escape," the woman barely glanced up from the typewriter to meet Jean's eyes. "As long as you're discrete, you will be safe." 

The conversation died at this point - the only sound occupying the empty space being shuffling footsteps from the crowds outside of the alley, the low, muttered words from other occupants hanging around (Jean _still_ wasn't sure if they remained suspicious of their presence), and the metallic clang that rang through the area each time the woman's fingers tapped the keyboard. Talking and planning for their future dangers almost seemed to encase all three of them in an impenetrable, soundproof bubble. For all he was aware, Levi or somebody associated with the Survey Corps, had been sneakily stalking them for a few minutes. Scarily enough, they probably wouldn't discover if they were followed by their leader until later that night, throats slit before they could say a single word. 

Jean swallowed thickly, slightly calmed by Armin's blank thinking face; if the blonde didn't appear worried, then Jean assumed becoming anxious would be pointless. Taking advantage of the time to think made Jean realise that he was numb with fear the moment he and Armin stepped foot into the silhouetted alley, but the rare feeling of anticipation fluttered within him after regaining his senses. Still, quickly glancing around to check for anomalies wouldn't be a bad idea either...

"Here's the first one," the woman announced, plucking the sheet of paper out of the typewriter's slot to hand to Armin, who gingerly accepted the delicate page as though it were made of fine, destructive material. "You'll probably notice the surname is fairly common and 'stereotypical', if you will. Officers and even civilians are less likely to remember your name the more common it is. I'll give you both different last names, though."

The first thing that Armin noticed, aside from the nervous rush that sparked throughout his system the moment his fingertips brushed the surface, was the smell, the dry, musty scent of aging and neglect that accompanied the odd yellow colouring. The paper was already creased for folds horizontally and vertically across the paper as if the document had been folded along those lines from the moment it was printed. With its realistic appearance, Armin had absolutely every reason to believe that his and Jean's forged identification papers would fool those who requested proof of identity at some point in the future. 

Armin remained somewhat daunted, however, upon realising his decision to play the opposite sex was finalised in black and white, intimidated by the letter 'F' printed right next to his false name. 

"You really did a great job," Armin enthusiastically complimented, voice soft and revere. Jean leaned a fraction closer to him, offering his own nod of approval from the document's appearance. "It truly appears as though it's been sitting in a drawer somewhere for 18 years." 

The woman struck a match to light yet another cigarette then returned her hands to the typewriter, action so smooth and graceful only cementing her expertise at her illegal job. "They're extremely delicate because the paper production was always so awful, so be careful," she instructed. "Keep them folded at all times until you need to prove your identity."

Overcome with intense, genuine gratitude, Armin couldn't help but blurt his appreciation like a balloon had swelled and burst inside of him. "Thank you," he emphasised. "We really appreciate this. How...uh, how much are you asking in exchange for this? You never stated a price, but we have-"

"-don't worry about that," the woman barely glanced at them, almost as if she couldn't bear to look at the two Survey Corps properly, as she quietly and quickly refused Armin's offer. "I don't enjoy accepting money from struggling kids. There's usually a lot of pain and heartbreak that comes with making life-threatening decisions like this, so I hope you know what you're getting yourselves into." 

An overly confident response in disagreement seemed cheap, yet a response in the vehement agreement would render them foolish. Of course Jean and Armin were aware that their worlds (and predictably, the worlds of their teammates and superiors) would be skewed and require a little more protection in the beginning. Second thoughts and regrets visited and departed their minds from time to time, but this decision for an opportunity formed together would never be something to take for granted, especially from the moment the newly printed, but old aged, identification papers were being held between Jean's thumb and forefinger. 

"Thank you, again," Jean mirrored Armin's gratitude, standing from the crates in front of the woman. Unsurprisingly, she returned to her flippant, uncaring attitude from the moment they stumbled across her in the alleyway. 

"Get out of here; I assume you wouldn't want to be caught in a place like this by the wrong person," she instructed irately, coldly gesturing towards the same way they entered from. Surprisingly, retracing their steps that lead them into the alley in the first place, ignoring the acrimonious state was easier to accomplish. 

Though, neither of them felt safe enough to engage in conversation until they left the alley. "Do you remember what your citizen marker looked like?" Armin asked Jean upon leaving the dark alley, finally feeling free enough to talk without every other person who shouldn't be overhearing their conversation loitering in the alleyway. Observing the new documents (and identities) that he and Jean would be assuming left Armin in absolute awe. The papers appeared so realistically worn with their decrepit edges and feathery folds; it was as though they had the markers in their possession for eighteen years. 

"Kind of. I can't remember specific details, but I do recall that the originals look fairly similar," Jean informed from his memory. He couldn't help but join Armin in the midst of admiration. "My parents never trusted me with it. I'm sure they were so certain that I would lose it or destroy it. If there was an option to bind it to me so it didn't get lost, I'm sure they would have accepted it, particularly when I joined the Survey Corps." 

"Your mom seems frantic like that," Armin commented, internally saddening somewhat. He realised that if they still decided to take the chance of leaving the Survey Corps and Levi's Squad behind, Jean would never see her again. The thought struck Armin so suddenly as if realisation sobered him like icy, cold water. 

Jean didn't share similar thoughts as he was seemingly unbothered and not focused on his lack of future family relationships. "What about your parents?" Jean curiously questioned. 

"My grandfather always had it, and then gave it to me shortly before he died," he explained while folding the documents neatly, using the predetermined folds as a guide for preservation. "Here; I'll give these to you now because it would be bad if somebody spotted up with them. Where do you suppose we keep them?"

"I'm on patrol tonight, so I'll hide them under the floorboards in the church - where we keep the map," Jean volunteered, accepting the papers Armin surrendered to him. Immediately slipping them into his front shirt pocket, Jean felt the rebellious weight in his shirt smoothly glide against his skin with every step. The feeling somewhat warmed his heart with the hidden knowledge of their proactive desire and action to escape. 

"Okay. I'm counting on you," Armin obliged, seemingly unconcerned. 

Jean's eyes lingered on the shorter blonde for a brief moment. Though the thought of Armin pretending to be female for the rest of his living life bothered him from a safety aspect immensely, Jean would never describe the intense appreciation that he simultaneously experienced for Armin. "You can. And not just with this, but I'll make sure you're not discovered," Jean promised. He would never claim or aim to 'protect' Armin, but providing the extra reassurance to the blonde gave Jean peace of mind; and possibly to Armin if he accepted it. 

"...we'll be okay," he confirmed slowly, breaking eye contact for a brief moment to rid himself of his hesitancy and muster up the courage to speak his mind. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?" Jean responded, squinting against the sunlight as they exited the small village in return to their base. 

"Why did you say that your parents were killed in the Titan invasion a few years ago?" Armin questioned, truly not comprehending why Jean would fabricate his family's fate. 

"I, uh, I guess it would have complicated things on our end if she had any idea that they were still alive, not to mention keeping anonymous would be ideal, right?" Jean continued thoughtfully. "She's right; it's better if I don't see them or attempt to inform them of our position. We couldn't trust them, especially not my mom, because I'm sure she would accidentally give us up when she gets questioned." 

"Do you really think that?" Understanding Jean's perspective, Armin sympathised with the brunette's decision to debar his parents' involvement in their lives from the moment they would eventually leave the Survey Corps. 

"Without a doubt," Jean confirmed with confidence. In a way, allowing his family to believe he had truly died during combat or an expedition was an act of protection. Soldiers' skills with prying details from enemies and criminals would hold no hesitance to probe Jean's family members to uncover his whereabouts if the details around his (and Armin's) disappearances were messy. 

"Are you okay with this, though?" Armin clarified, mildly wary of Jean's answer.

"Armin, it's truly okay," he gently reassured, voice dropping to a lower, more comforting pitch. "We're both making sacrifices for what we decided. I promise I'm okay with this." To Jean, they were both forced to renounce parts of their history and identity (Armin more so than Jean), and they had no choice but to unwaveringly support each other. They might be able to grieve and revise if the future brought along any changes.


	4. We Knew It Wouldn't Be Easy

The next long, painstaking weeks were filled with nothing but dread and non-committed timelines of the date of their departure. In Jean's mind, because the minor details were nicely organised, they were free to leave whenever they spied an opening. Armin would never allow either of them to execute such a poor plan driven by desperation and passion, instead insisting their escape route required more tact than Jean possessed. At times, Armin's methodical mind frustrated Jean, but he was grateful to have Armin's logical opinions when his own emotions were prone to run rampant. 

The only positive side to waiting was the strict routine Levi forced his squad to abide by every single day except for if Levi's superiors or Erwin interfered with supplementary missions. Without fail, the morning always began with either Jean or Armin finding an excuse to sneak out of the base to check on their forged documents; their flimsy, delicate shields for their future. Whoever re-entered the base would be served a curious, slightly disquieted, expression - sick to their stomach with the possibility that the documents were stolen, or destroyed, or in Levi's possession until he figured out who they belonged to - until a wordless nod calmed them for another day. 

Whether the action stemmed from paranoia or reassurance or newly acquired compulsion, stealing time from Levi's strict schedule to check became a daily need, but not an unwelcome one. 

Levi, under Erwin's instructions with a new lead in their assigned case, organised an early morning meeting that day. An unspoken rule among all of Levi's inferiors was arriving at Levi's held meetings up to twenty minutes early. Although each member of Levi's squad rushed through their chores and tasks at a dissatisfying level to commit to early arrival, the sour, bitter attitude he developed at a late arrival frighteningly increased Levi's tendency to react violently later in the day. Unfortunately for Jean, the secret addition to his and Armin's schedule ensured Jean was only nineteen minutes early, but despite Jean's prompt punctuality, Levi's eyes dripped with murderous intent as though Jean arrived nineteen minutes late. 

Nobody's, apart from Levi's, gaze followed his short journey through the cramped meeting room towards his assigned seat on Sasha's left side. Jean fought against criminals, and Titans, and had trained for every physical combat encounter he could ever imagine, yet nothing shrunk Jean's confidence more than Levi. The short-statured man exuded a Medusa-like power that rendered his underlings frozen as though he transformed them to stone. 

Once Jean silently (hoping to avoid an outburst from their captain) sat down, he suppressed the flare of vitriol he generated at Levi's sharp sigh. "Nice of you to join us," Levi stated with as much passive-aggression as he could muster...which happen to be a great deal. 

"...I'm sorry for being late," Jean replied quietly, cheeks burning with red, hot chagrin. From the corner of Jean's eye, he spotted the momentary blue flicker of Armin's eyes towards him from his own assigned seat between Eren and Mikasa. Resolving to remain wordless, the absolute last thing Jean wanted was to entice Levi's wrath, especially with their deleterious secret hidden in the church; the secret that Levi almost discovered. 

* * *

_Armin hesitantly advised against crafting a hiding place the moment they returned from the village. The documents needed to be hidden as soon as possible, otherwise, the longer they remained in Jean's immediate possession, the more danger they would be in if Jean were to accidentally misplace them. The immense sense of worry that plagued Armin didn't help in quelling Jean's anxiety but he managed to convince the blonde to present the list of items Levi originally sent them to collect to buy Jean some time._

_Easily lifting one of many loose floorboards, Jean intended to slip the meticulously folded documents underneath - until a sickening, alarming vision of Levi stalking through the building's doorless arch and investigating each loose floorboard for the incriminating evidence of their precious haul flashed before his eyes. With Jean and Armin being the main scouts that frequented the church (an occurrence that Levi vehemently despised), Levi would immediately form conclusions with his proof as judgement and execute them without trial._

_"Shit..." Jean muttered to himself as he kneeled and stared at the dry soil as though he weren't imagining a timer counting down towards his death._

_Jean saw no other option than to bury his incriminating evidence as deep as he could dig. Dirt and soil would be the least of their issues with Levi loose, but Jean wrapped the documents in a dusty, tattered rag draped over one of the pews to preserve their novelty. Once Jean completed the hole, he pressed and smoothed the soil to ensure the ground appeared untouched._

_With that knowledge weighing on him heavily in the back of his mind, Jean attempted to wipe as much incriminating dirt from his hands as he could. Jean never understood why the Survey Corps uniform required them to wear white pants, but he theorised the colour discouraged its members from smearing themselves with ink, or mud, or any other sort of messy evidence. Or it allowed superior ranking soldiers an excuse to punish their inferiors for a single speck of imperfection. Unfortunately, he settled for the dusty rug which didn't help clean his skin at all._

_Jean's mind worked fast to both compose himself and conjure a reasonable excuse for his tardiness, albeit, that would have occurred had Jean not almost collided with Levi as he exited the building. What Jean had hidden beneath the earth mere seconds ago almost conveyed itself on Jean's face with the utmost, horrifying clarity; had Jean dawdled for seconds longer, Levi would have immediately busted him._

_Which was an overwhelmingly reassuring thought, as judging by Levi's acrimonious expression, he was in fierce pursuit of Jean and out for his blood._

_"Good afternoon, Captain," Jean announced and saluted as he had performed several times in the past. One of these days, hopefully very soon, it would be his last. The sudden and seemingly unconscious movement accidentally exposed Jean's filthy hand caked with soil. Good luck seemed to be on Jean's side today, as Levi's eyes remained locked on the church. Jean's own eyes couldn't resist glancing down towards the sword in Levi's holster as though he was prepared to use his 3DM gear, or solely his sword._

_The lack of immediate response from Levi weakened Jean no matter how hard he attempted to conceal his frightened, stomach-flipping guilt. What if Levi was searching for witnesses the moment before striking his seemingly innocent underling down? Had somebody (or Armin in a small moment of weakness) discerned them in the village moments ago and reported them to Levi?_

_"What are you doing here?" Levi shot back in a delayed response, and Jean had never been so glad to hear his angry voice. Though, without the trip back to the base to nervously think of an excuse, Jean would have to talk out of his ass, which was usually Armin's forte._

_"I decided to begin my post as schedule the moment Armin and I arrived back here," Jean answered uniformly. He chose to conceal his hands back under his cape. "I figured I would perform an inspection here just before arriving at the post, as Sasha was still stationed."_

_Jean would never know if he delivered the right or wrong answer to Levi, but regardless of whatever Jean would say, his suspicion continued to grow at an exponential rate. Levi's dull hazel eyes traced the roofless line of the building as he peered inside. A majority of Levi's attention remained focused on the walls as if assessing what attracted Jean, or even Armin, to this unsightly, decrepit building every time they were on patrol._

_"I don't like you brats fucking around in here. It's like you're hiding something from everybody..." Levi's muttering was directed more towards himself than to Jean but with the intent of allowing Jean to overhear his words. The exposed parts of the wooden floor grabbed Levi's attention, particularly areas where they exposed the ground underneath. Jean froze in position to do nothing other than watch him, something that Levi noticed. "Carry the remaining bundles of firewood from the shack, then swap with Sasha," he demanded, eyes not leaving Jean until he was out of eyesight._

_The request struck Jean as somewhat odd. But who was he to question Levi? He found himself unable to concentrate on anything else with his stomach in knots. Trading positions with Sasha to relieve her failed to alleviate any stress Jean experienced because he was in direct eye line to observe Levi from a distance._

_The most excruciating part of watching Levi investigate the building was the fact that Jean was virtually powerless to stop him. If Jean questioned him or stopped him, Levi would be suspicious, but absolutely nothing stopped Levi on his quest. Jean believed Levi would have probably torn that ruined building down - pulling up each rickety, rotting floorboard, crumbling the walls into large, dusty chunks, and digging with his bare hands until he found what Jean had hidden. Jean remained tense until midnight when he would be relieved from the overnight position because if Levi dug those documents from the earth's soil with his bare hands before Jean's dismissal, he wouldn't be subjected to the spine-chilling count down to his death._

_It was probably only a matter of time, too._

* * *

"Now that everyone's here, let's get started. We have a lot to cover in very little time so I don't want any interruptions whatsoever," Levi instructed as he gestured to the paper map assumed to the wall. "I want everybody to become well acquainted with this map because this is the location of our new base."

Levi's voice possessed the nauseating talent to force his inferiors to tense with anxiety which was successful every time. Jean held the opinion that Levi thoroughly enjoyed watching every one of his squad members' posture unconsciously straighten and avoid his intense eye contact. Despite his tone, Jean felt his stomach sink upon observing the new base location. When had Levi ever mentioned picking up and relocating, especially to those who would be affected by the move most? The area covering the map appeared smaller and more isolating than their current one if that was possible. 

Jean suddenly became severely worried about the inevitable distance the relocation would force between himself and Armin. Currently, maintaining their secrecy while maintaining an appropriate relationship balance was a process that required endless sacrifices and the mandatory acceptance that they could potentially spend weeks without talking to each other. The church, no matter how open and unscrupulous it acted as a barrier between themselves and their squad, was their only place of solace. How much freedom would they be allowed to have in the new base? Surprisingly, for once, every person wore a similar expression of displeasure. 

"What's the point in moving? Aren't we safe here?" Eren interjected without warning, commencing Levi's second spark of annoyance that morning from the disruption. 

"We're moving to be closer to the village we purchase our supplies from," he replied tersely while Jean's heart sank. The distance between himself, Armin, and the rest of the squad was a large and predictable factor in their plan. Now, aware of the possibility of frequent supply runs, Jean was afraid to merely dedicate a passing thought to the probability of encountering Levi's Squad after their escape.

Eren interrupted before Jean could gather the courage to pose a question. "Let's just go to a closer area for supplies if you're so concerned about the travel time," he suggested. However, Jean guaranteed that the older man would rather lose his limbs and the better part of his torso before Levi willingly accepted Eren's recommendations. 

"No. We can only purchase 3DM gear parts in that vicinity. Travelling two to three days a month for a simple supply run is tedious. I trusted my old squad to independently maintain the base while myself and one or two other members accompany me, which is why this location was optimal," Levi scowled at the bitter memories as if suddenly wishing his deceased comrades were with him as opposed to the wide-eyed adolescents before him. "But I cannot trust brats to not behave like brats." 

"We're all adults, you know," the emerald-eyed boy reminded. "Well...except for Armin. But you can trust the rest of us."

The mention of his name on his best friend's lips seemed to be a rare occurrence these days. Armin wasn't sure if a surge of happiness or electric trepidation struck his core. Still, Armin couldn't help but blush and avert his eyes to stare at the table, acting as though he were atoning for his guilt of not aging as quickly as the rest of his squad. Levi's reasoning wasn't his fault; he'd just spout impossible bullshit such as 'trusting them when they aged older than him'. 

"Firstly, he doesn't matter. Secondly, I'd trust broken, rusted equipment over you. Lastly, Eren, if I hear one more stupid word excrete its way from your mouth, I will force you to make the trip on foot. Am I clear?" Levi listed dangerously. Backing down seemed to be no easy feat to Eren, especially since Mikasa would more than likely reprimand him later. Once Levi's emotionless visage returned with the assurance Eren would no longer interrupt, he continued with the meeting. "We will move in two weeks. I suggest everybody pack everything they need before the moving date because once we leave, we're not coming back." 

The revelation seemed to add upon the growing pile of anxiety onto Jean. Not only would the move be stressful by itself - particularly with Levi's pre-existing susceptibility to stress - but finding another adequate hiding place for their documents would prove to be insurmountably tough. Levi would no doubt increase patrols for the first few months, which would erase any possible chance of seamless escape on foot.

"Are we living in the village now, Captain?" Mikasa asked, diligent as ever. 

"No. That's still too risky. We're around five miles apart," he answered. Curious questions and sentimentality seemed to anger Levi more intensely than ever, and Jean couldn't help but ponder about who he would ultimately lash out at first. Someone as hardened and stoic as Levi would never understand why teenagers would feel affection towards their base of residence for three years. To avoid more meaningless questions, especially from restless looking Connie and Sasha, Levi slammed his hand down on the table to signify the moratorium. "I still have more to discuss, so save questions until the meeting is over. I don't know what is happening to this place. Erwin could burn the whole building down for all I care!" 

Levi's offhand comment was perceived as a threat; as history dictated, Levi could and would follow through with any threat to spite his squad. No matter how carefully they all internally promised to tread with the impending relocation to a place they have never seen before, their captain remains a ticking time bomb. 

"My next order of business," Levi announced proficiently as though he hadn't scolded his team, "is our up and coming mission. We're publicly meeting with around four other groups, possibly criminals, as a favour for information exchange. Armin and Jean; I require your cooperation for the execution." 

Tension, thick and impervious tension, immediately infiltrated the room the moment their respective names resonated from Levi's throat. Of course, it was evident that only Jean and Armin intuited how resistant the other was suddenly rendered. Any semblance of Jean's blank expression slipping to reveal a less willing or less agreeable stance would no doubt result in punishing laments towards his 'lack of dedication to the team'. Surprisingly, Armin's supposed dedication was never once questioned - perhaps due to the natural hesitance his low self-esteem generated. 

Armin decided his inherent curiosity outweighed his heavy discomfort. "What do you require from us?" His meek, dulcet voice formed the question that penetrated the silence in such a way that immediately melted Jean's heart, like acid on flesh, in the unconsciously melancholic way Armin did best. Even before Levi divulged details, Jean knew that whatever he would propose, Armin would not deserve it. 

"We need you to act as Historia's and Eren's body doubles again," Levi informed in a deadpan, oblivious tone that successfully infuriated Jean. How dare he act so casual when asking them to sacrifice their bodies and lives to protect two 'arguably more important lives' than theirs? 

"...you've organised another capture and kidnap mission?" Jean's and Levi's eyes met in a battle of fiery brown and frosty hazel. Anything Jean would articulate from this point on would increase Levi's anger towards him - it was undeniable. Armin helplessly watched Levi's frown dangerously deepen, like his vexation were a controllable lever, and wished he were brave enough to ease the tension. 

"You both have strict instructions to follow because we've communicated with various underground groups," Levi swiftly ignored Jean's disdainful question. "Essentially, they possess the information and possible leads that we may be able to use. They do not know Historia and Eren are affiliated with the Survey Corps so they believe we're willingly handing them over in exchange for information related to them."

"And just how are you expecting this to work?" Jean prompted fiercely. This situation was making him extremely nervous. 

"You'll both be waiting in separated designated areas for the exchange. I'll be there, of course, to facilitate and take note of which group takes you first, but I'll observe from a distance. We'll rescue you after we get the information," he informed. "The meeting point is the place we collect our supplies from. This gives us an advantage because we know the area and have better control if something were to happen." 

Neither dared to utter a single sound while silently communicating Levi's proposed plan through dubious eyes. They weren't stupid; they both were aware that Levi would never merely offer voluntary participation then accept their refusal with grace. Alarm bells continuously rang in both of their minds indicating a sinister vibe. Not only would they be captured by force by a group they had never heard of, but they would be separated, too. Was this a unique form of punishment for both of them? This plan did not appear sound or executable in the slightest...at least, not without one or both of them getting themselves into a dangerous situation.

Correctly interpreting their lack of immediate acceptance as hesitance bordering on refusal, Levi approached the meeting table closest to Jean's side. Armin felt his breath catch in his throat as Levi and Jean visually battled each other once again. "Is there an issue?" The captain's tone lowered in pitch, fully intent on intimidating Jean as much as he could. 

Despite his unnerving agitation, Jean never faltered. "What happens after we're captured? What's the time frame we should expect to be evacuated?" he stubbornly crossed his arms in front of his chest as a form of protection if Levi spontaneously decided to attack him. "I want answers before I agree to anything especially since you said _last_ time I'd never have to be a body double again." 

Eren's and Jean's eye line crossed for the first time in what seemed like years. Fights often broke out between the two but Jean realised he never looked at him properly during those times. Jean intuited immediately that Eren was informed of this plan long before the rest of the group judging by the distaste and irritation that plagued his features from the overabundant questions. And this _bastard_ kept this from his supposed best friend. 

"I cannot give a time frame. That depends on whether whoever takes you would like to cooperate with us - as soon as we get what we need, we'll collect you. This is a typical kidnapping so they might ask you some questions, keep you locked away or hidden until they figure out what to do with you. Plans change, of course, so I cannot describe their behaviour, only guide yours," Levi informed. His diplomacy constantly intertwined with a deeply condescending tone suggests that Jean should have been aware of this.

And it only forced Jean to resist further. 

"This whole mission seems poorly planned," Jean argued. "It's clear you haven't assessed risks properly before this meeting." 

"Maybe you should keep your mouth shut and obey your authority," Eren interjected, voice as gelid as an arctic wind. His strong uncharacteristic eye contact attempted to sway Jean, although Eren's charisma barely tapered the point to be sufficiently manipulative. 

"You're stupid if you think I'm going to blindly follow an incomplete plan that's a danger to my life," he retorted back. He felt indignance towards Levi's inability to understand his concerns. Moments involving a clear divide in Jean's opinions and the team's opinions always caused him to second guess himself. 

"Don't be ridiculous; your lives won't be in danger," Levi dismissed his concerns. 

"What do we do when they figure out we're in disguises?" Jean proposed, merely bringing affronted attention to Armin's circumstance. "The whole team was present last time and turned the situation around _before_ we were thoroughly searched to confirm our identities."

The part of the plan that terrified Jean (and most likely Armin, judging by the distressed expression on his pale face) was their separation. Though the notion mortified him, if their kidnappers attempted to strip search them to confirm their identities, Jean could pretend to act as though he were Eren and threaten to transform into a Titan and slaughter everybody for the slim chance to be left alone. That would probably be the exact last event Jean would begrudgingly to resort to. 

"Time to brush up on your acting skills, I suppose," Eren remarked, dripping with sarcasm, under his breath. 

"Think about Armin!" Jean exasperatedly gestured towards the blonde who appeared as though he would rather be anywhere else except for listening to this discussion. Including Armin in the conversation was not an act of malice but a necessity to emotively drive his argument. "When - not if, because it _will_ happen - they discover that he isn't Historia, or even female for that matter, and is a member of the Survey Corps in disguise, he'll be killed. Isn't that a cause for concern to you?" 

"This is our only choice. I'm not willing to sacrifice these two instead," Levi confidently doubled down upon his plan. Though Eren's approval was previously expressed, Historia's stoic visage divulged as much information as the brick wall behind her, though Armin indubitably assumed she learned about the mission's contents along with Eren.

"But we're okay to sacrifice?" Jean's incredulous stare bore into the older man, though neither his stare nor his words could offer Levi the chance to consider his flawed plan. 

"Truthfully, Jean, you're less valuable than they are," he harshly refuted. The emerging truth didn't surprise Jean; how willing the statement sounded flowing from Levi's mind and out of his mouth surprised him. 

Words could never describe how much the mere thought of Armin's murder pained him. Before commencing hazardous missions, no matter how high the percentage of their supposed survival rate, routine insomnia intruded upon Jean's mind. This disruptive impulsion of Jean's to replay images of Armin's imagined death, showcasing Armin's lack of strength or self-survival kills and mocking Jean's inability to protect him. Jean's refusal heavily prioritised Armin's role in the mission which was arguably _more_ dangerous. If so much as a single scratch vandalised Armin's flesh as a result of this mission, Jean would never forgive himself. 

The adrenaline dancing through his system attempted to goad the indignant rage manifesting within him, but Jean maintained as much of his sanity as he could grasp to not impede the situation more than he already had. "We can be bait if it's important to the plan, but the entire team needs to be there to oversee. It isn't fair for us to be thrown into an unknown environment without guaranteed support," Jean slowly and steadily and shakily compromised, half-aware he was chasing impossibility. 

"The plan is non-negotiable," Levi countered, moving away from the meeting table to the map as if to symbolically defend his plan from the stubborn brunette. "This must be executed as soon and as swiftly as possible by my schedule. There's a large expense riding on this mission that the Survey Corps is not overly pleased about shouldering-"

"-you _sold_ Eren and Historia for information?" Every member in the room flinched from Jean's loud outburst aside from the minaciously passive Levi. _Why_ was remaining _safe_ and _alive_ seemed like a forbidden luxury they were not entitled to? Levi had forged a calm appearance while allowing chaotic calamity to writhe within his hazel eyes. Dictating a route of action to satisfy both argumentative people proved difficult from Armin's stance, particularly because of any attempts to aid Jean in debate enticed fear to cling to his voice and keep it contained within his larynx. 

While Jean awaited confirmation, Levi's silence gnawed at Armin's tense muscles. This was his indication to _shut the fuck up_ and reluctantly acquiesce so Jean could discuss their options with Armin in private. 

"What the hell are we to you? Like, some pawns to manipulate to achieve your own goals? What gives you the right to whore your inferiors out like we're goddamn disposable bodies?" Jean's remonstrations acted held an evident bitterness as he had repressed these fighting words for so long. 

"Watch your language," Levi warned, nose wrinkling in a subconscious gesture of disgust against Jean's uncouth language and emotional outburst. 

"Not until you admit that you're a deplorable leader for selling another human being for information," the younger brunette ignored the threat in favour of his continuous disparagement. 

"I refuse to explain myself to a disobedient subordinate," Levi answered. 

"Then I'm not doing it," he decided with stubborn finality. Though, if Jean had kept his eyes anywhere except for the wooden pattern on the table as he slumped back against his chair, he would have caught Armin's panicked grimace indicating Jean had just decided upon the absolute worst decision of his life and career as a Survey Corps soldier. 

Jean also would have been inspired to alter his decision once Levi slowly approached his allocated side of the table all but menacingly. "Excuse me? Would you like to repeat that?" Levi requested

"I _said_ that I'm _not_ doing the mission," Jean emphatically refused his captain. His smouldering brown eyes were afire, like hot lasers, with security and trust in his decision. What Jean wasn't expecting, however, was Levi's threatening stature to instantaneously mutate into a single act of violence as Levi gathered a fist full of Jean's hair between his palm and his fingers to forcefully shove his head against the table with all of his strength; and for 'humanity's strongest', this was a relatively easy and gratifying action. The bridge of his nose collided against the edge of the table with an _astonishing_ amount of pain that found Jean biting his tongue to avoid causing himself to drown deeper in the corporal punishment he was subjected to. 

Despite the sudden sharp shock of the initial blow that ebbed and flowed because Levi continued to crush his nose against the table with no relief; despite Armin's small, anguished gasp that was promptly smothered against the palm of his hand; despite the hot, bloody liquid gushing as quick as the steep gradient of a rapidly running river from his orifice and dying red streaks down his face...Jean was glad. Sick, sick thoughts of gratitude rushed through his head centred around the objectively merciful punishment. Since when was it normalised in their lives to feel grateful for a less painful punishment? 

Armin sat there horrified and helpless, brain buzzing with activity but also numbly empty with no thoughts. Guilt bubbled inside his stomach accurately mimicking nausea, so much so that Armin was confident if he ever so slightly parted his lips, he'd begin to dry heave or sob hysterically. 

"Armin," Levi beckoned him in an almost sweet voice ignoring the fact he was outwardly distressed after witnessing him injure his teammate. Fear was never a felonious topic to Levi, especially when that fear grew at a vicarious level. "You'll do it, right?"

It was never a question if Armin would refuse or not; he'd do whatever it was to guarantee that he and Jean were both safe.

"Y...Yes. Yes, of course, I will," Armin breathed with careful consideration to quell Levi's rage and ensure no ricochet. A hand laid delicately across his shoulder with a single squeeze so gentle the action almost comforted him until he was confronted with Eren's face. Eren adorned a determined, complimentary smile - one that Armin hadn't caused or witnessed in years. What once invoked warmth in his heart only doubly increased his anxiety. The confirmation of their friendship and to just _feel_ like their bond was still strong was all Armin craved and still craved, but everything felt dirty and artificial. Eren must have forgotten that Armin was not an idiot and would never willingly fall for such blatant manipulation to wholeheartedly accept Levi's mission, no matter how hard Armin would love to claim ignorance and play pretend. 

"Very good," their satisfied captain praised. "That matter is settled. I'll meet with you both in two days to organise formal arrangements. Everybody is dismissed and needs to return to their usual schedules now." 

The moment Levi released him, Jean covered the bottom half of his face with his hand to allow any excess blood to pool in his curved palm and conceal the reflexive tears pricking in his eyes. Jean's natural olive complexion seemed to rapidly grow ashy with the blood loss, and it was difficult to focus on anything other than the warm and unpleasant throbbing located on the forefront of his face. In an emetic, disorienting blur, Jean discovered his surroundings were no longer indicative of the meeting room but in the hallway with a flushed and flustered looking Armin in front of him while he was sitting on a crate. 

"Are you okay?!" Armin frantically questioned in a hushed tone. Normally, injuries would be immediately taken care of in a peaceful and comforting environment crafted by the two of them. Assessing Jean's injuries would be difficult with all of Levi's Squad exiting the meeting room without so much as a single glance towards them. 

"I'm okay..." Jean managed to answer, voice adequately muffled behind his palms. 

"I'll g-go grab a rag or cloth or _something_ ," he promised, lingering in front of the brunette until he received a nod (a fairly weak one with evidently tender movements, but Armin decided he would accept any assurance as assurance) in response. "Stay here, alri-"

"-hey, Armin!" An oddly cheerful voice interrupted the aforementioned blonde like a sea storm ravishing tranquil land. _Eren's_ voice catalysed a mild disassociation in Armin's priorities; on one hand, Jean's wounded-self that required attention which posed as his main priority, on the other hand, Armin felt he had regressed to twelve-years-old once more purely based on Eren's nostalgic tone of voice. The number of years Eren (and Mikasa, of course, who still acted as Eren's dedicated sister from the moment he saved her) fought Armin's battles for him outweighed the years Armin spent desperately begging for his best friend's attention. 

Why had he decided to answer his pleas when Armin had lost that desire?

"...is something wrong?" Armin inquired, an unmistakable waver in his voice. 

"Nothing's wrong," he shrugged with ease as he gestured to the bulky gear around his hips. "We're going to clean our gear now. Do you want to come?" 

Eren's entire expression changed from welcoming to viciously contemptuous the instant Armin, helplessly confused, appeared panicked after being practically forced to choose between Jean and his old best friends. Surprisingly enough, Jean found himself to be the target of Eren's scornful attitude. What specifically angered Jean the most - notwithstanding his severe pain - was Eren's ability to ignore Armin, who hadn't complained or brooded over the outcome of their friendship, for years on end then trespass once again, embodying as much ignorant bliss as a child. 

Jean _despised_ Eren for instilling this lack of confidence and as much as he despised entertaining the idea, he decided to encourage Armin to spend time with Eren and Mikasa. This whole situation transpired because Jean didn't know when or how to keep his mouth shut and if anybody could attempt to smooth over the rocky situation with the utmost tact, it would be Armin. 

As Armin opened his mouth to presumably politely decline, Jean quietly influenced him to change his mind. "Go with them. He might become suspicious if you decline and report to Levi," he instructed as quietly as possible to avoid alerting Eren or Mikasa about their discussion. "We're on patrol together later so come and find me when you're done."

"...okay, I'll see you tonight, then. Stay safe," Armin murmured, leaving him in reluctant favour of joining his friends in their journey. "Sure, Eren! Let's go," he graciously accepted with a smile faker than the bond between the three of them. Nescient would never be an adjective to describe the astute blonde; he was aware of the high chance that Eren was putting on an act for selfish reasons. 

While Armin's guard remained strong and rampant throughout the entire afternoon he spent with Eren and Mikasa, he felt as though he were experiencing an amalgamation of vivid fever dreams regarding his wish to be friendly with Eren and Mikasa once again. Their familiar interactions inspired dichotomous emotions within him; Armin felt safe, but lost, content, but numb, calm, but an absolute nervous wreck. These were the two people he shared childhood with. The more Armin reminisced upon these times, the more faith he developed in his and Jean's plans for leaving the Survey Corps once and for all.

It was as if nobody else existed on the base or within the walls, or in the entire universe when conversing about nothing and everything - even after their duties were completed. _That_ concept made Armin feel severely giddy (and not in a good way) and unsteady. 

Before joining Jean for patrol the same night, Eren proposed a request to read Armin's paperback book about the world together. Armin never understood his reasons for surrendering his most prized possession and one of the only physical links to his family, but he surrendered that book to Eren with the generous offer of allowing temporary ownership to the brunette. Once Eren wholeheartedly accepted, Armin _knew_ he'd never, ever see that book again unless Eren decided to utilise it as blackmail. 

Armin only found solace and stability upon joining Jean in the church that evening and that emotion was almost enough to fill Armin with joy and squeeze him tight with the most ferocious adoration he could...which is what Armin desired if that minimal contact did not have the high probability of killing them if they were caught. The bleeding had stopped, thank God, and he wasn't distracted by pain like he was hours beforehand; the only long-lasting effect on Jean's face was the reddish purplish bruise beginning to form across the bridge of Jean's noise. 

"How are you feeling?" Approaching Jean by one of the shattered windows, Armin stood beside him to observe the luminous pink and orange sunset that stretched across the night sky, but Jean's eyes were fixed on the smaller boy. Fingers spread along the wooden sill, collecting dust, wood shavings and various other natural debris as though those fingers were a broom. Armin favoured the unique aging, but deteriorating, the sensation of the wood and the rare warmth simmering in his chest that his lover's presence oh so naturally produced. It was blissful. 

"A lot better," Jean acknowledged as he had become accustomed to the throbbing sensation in his face. Armin's unconsciously wandering hands became interesting to Jean, though he hesitated to touch him even by accident with flirty undertones. "Were Eren and Mikasa okay? Did they give you grief?"

"Uh, no. They were oddly pleasant," the blonde corrected. For such amazing news, Armin's troubled facial expression indicated anything but positivity. Before Jean requested further clarification out of interest and conversation, Armin hastily continued. "Talking with them felt weird, though. I'm unsure what their intentions are but I don't doubt they are quite self-driven. If that's the case, then they're pretty twisted people and I'm not sure what I ever saw in them as friends." 

Jean could not formulate the appropriate words for him, unaware that the shared presence momentarily fulfilled the need for pure understanding and comfort. The one-sided tension Jean experienced the moment Armin entered the church built until Jean finally manifested his culpable thoughts into apologetic words. 

"I'm sorry for suggesting you do that. And for escalating the situation back in the meeting," Jean ruefully sighed, dropping his face into his hand - tenderly, however, as to not disturb his bruising. "I behaved so, _so_ irresponsibly and I wouldn't be surprised if I just fucked us." Part of Jean didn't even want to _look_ at Armin or his unnaturally compassionate eyes because the guilt of forcing him to atone for his argumentative nature was too great to handle. 

"You didn't, we'll be okay," Armin gently reassured although Jean would never accept his assurances if he didn't share the sentiment. 

Boldly without daring to even peek over his shoulder as his paranoia begged him to, Armin impulsively nuzzled his temple into Jean's shoulder. Initial contact acted like a doomsday bomb trigger threatening to destroy the world, and thus their lives; Jean found himself to wrapped up in Armin's forbidden affection to truly care about the consequences. Jean counteracted by finally interlocking his fingers with Armin's and gripping as tight as he so desperately craved as his contribution. Deep down, normalising and encouraging this habit would be detrimental to their lives...although, particularly to Armin, it was comforting to experience and display mutual devotion with such a cruel and lonely mission looming over their future. 

"...would you be willing to consider to take the chance to leave when you're on night parole at the end of the week?" Jean quietly suggested, heart rate increasing as his motivation and eagerness to leave the squad and the Survey Corps behind returned tenfold. 

"Yes. Definitely," Armin nodded while assuming a straight standing position. "I thought about it all afternoon. This is our best opportunity and I'd rather die trying than in combat or during the mission in two weeks." 

"Hey," the brunette gazed solemnly down towards Armin. Before delivering a short pep talk Armin so clearly required, Jean allowed his hand to cup his warm, slightly rosy cheek for a brief second before dropping back to his side. The daring, and somewhat necessary, action finished as quick as Jean started like his brain fleetingly assumed control. The last appendage touching Armin was Jean's thumb which pleasantly tingled from the warmth of his skin. "Don't talk like that. We'll be okay, just like you said. As long as we stick to the plan, we really will be okay." 

Armin enthusiastically nodded in agreement. 

Pieces finally falling into their appropriate places, the decision freed the air of any doubts or uncertainty but almost doubled their anxiety. The journey to the village - their new home - would probably kill them if Levi or any members of the Survey Corps did not grasp the opportunity to first. Sneaking from the base with nothing other than the clothes on their backs in the dead of night and collecting their documents from the church's soil would be challenging, but not impossible. 

If only they hadn't woken up to the charred remains of the church and everything in its vicinity after the building had burned in the night. 


	5. We Were So, So Scared

Everything was numb. If Jean weren't surrounded by the robust and dizzying scent of gasoline, wood, carpet, dirt, hell, anything that could be ravished by flame, he would have assumed he was still dreaming. His brain bubbled with ideas ranging from small plans to sneak past Levi and search through the charcoaled debris of the church to magically summoning a time-travelling instrument to stop somehow the events that were unravelling in front of his very eyes. Everything inside that church was destroyed...including the papers they'd worked so hard to smuggle and hide for weeks. He wasn't sure if the panic was evident on his face, nor did he care in the slightest. 

Jean decided he'd never hated anybody more than he'd hated Levi right now. He wanted to _yell_ and _cry_ until his voice filled every single particle of space of the empty field their base occupied. He wanted to hurt him over and _over_ again until his fists were bruised and Levi's face was a bloody, mushy, unrecognisable pulp. It would probably lead Jean to the same fate as Levi by Erwin and the lead commanding officers of the Survey Corps, but at least he'd die free. 

Realistically, the only thing that kept Jean frozen in place was the intense, paralysing fear that Levi was ready for an outburst and hurt him first, and worse than before. 

Levi, standing in front of the ruins of his destruction, embodied smug pride and brilliance like some artificial God. His entire Squad faced him in a parallel line from tallest to smallest plagued with similar assumptions; Jean and Armin, the two who spent the most time in the church, were the catalyst for Levi's decision. But the worst part wasn't that they were partially responsible - it was that every single one of Levi's Squad was equally responsible. Burnt pieces of firewood, the exact same firewood Levi had been hoarding for years and requested that his Scouts carry bundles outside the wrecked building, were littered among the ruins. The revelation was utterly bone-chilling and emetic, and Jean wasn't sure how (or if) he'd recover from feeling like he was solely responsible for the destruction. 

Levi's stark auburn eyes glowered at them for what seemed like hours until he would decide to grace them with an explanation. "There will be some changes to how procedures operate around here. Permanently," Levi explained, downright dull. "Listen well because I will only say this once; nobody leaves the building without permission or by themselves. Nightly patrols will now be in pairs with me rotating every second night. I will also be conducting room searches randomly once a week. No questions and no complaints; everybody will abide by these rules starting from now. Do I make myself clear?" 

He began the explanation staring at Armin, then finished while staring at Jean. His heart sank with every unfair word, every impeding syllable while feeling the bruising on his nose throb intensely the longer Levi maintained eye contact. 

"Yes, Captain," they all chanted in monotonous unison. 

"Fine. You all have chores to do, so go and finish them," the Corporal demanded with a flick of his wrist as though the gesture were a magic spell to make them disappear. 

In fact, Jean wished as though Levi did cast a disappearance spell because dealing with that would be a whole lot easier than coping with how cruelly their possible escape had been ripped from their fingertips. Levi was obviously aware that they were conspiring about something, but why hadn't he called them out? Jean could have accepted Levi's lack of confrontation as a positive sign for their lives. Knowing their spiteful captain sat on possible information of their betrayal - while hinting nothing - slowly _killed_ Jean. Armin was probably equally as clueless; however, he embodied sharp-wit and would secretly plan their course of action. Jean respected his lover's thinking - but jumping into battle was so much more satisfying. 

Not to mention less anxiety-inducing, like the spiralling churning in Jean's stomach indicated. 

Just feeling the feather-light nudge of Armin's shoulder against his arm, so innocently and furtively glancing behind him to beckon Jean, shocked him from his catatonic state. Suddenly discovering himself and his squadmates inside the base, quietly attending to their chores, Jean felt all of his sadness and injustice clump and bind together to form a painful blockage in his esophagus. As much as Jean craved freedom, there was no feasible or realistic chance of slipping through Levi's blindspot and charging into their journey as the treacherous runaway soldiers. 

"Come with me," Armin softly urged as though Jean had more desirable places within the base to escape to in mind. 

Although Jean dutifully followed the smaller boy towards his room, he was utterly confident that Armin's calculating plan would be too overwhelming for his current fragility. Armin most definitely saw evident defeat, painting his mien like a mural. In hindsight, Jean was glad he never said it out loud, but confusion flooded his mind to why and how Armin could remain so calm during such a tumultuous time. It pissed Jean off, he wanted space to be alone with his thoughts but didn't have the heart to tell Armin as soon as he closed his bedroom door. 

"Armin, I don't want to talk about this right now..." Jean's voice wavered, convinced he'd emotionally collapse if Armin pushed this. 

"Just trust me," he shushed quietly, rummaging through his closet to reveal the skirt he would be wearing on the day of the mission in two days. 

The brunette, with his unwavering, undying, dependable trust, warily watched Armin until he'd revealed a smaller pocket hidden with extra special care with the faint outline of something flat, something rectangular that cruelly tricked Jean's heart for a little moment. His whole system seemed to halt and falter in utter disbelief the moment Armin produced the two documents he assumed they'd lost not even five minutes ago. The rare situation would have tricked Jean to believe he would awake from a dream, had the extent of Armin's calculating brilliance been entirely believable. Although, the expression on Armin's face - a modest, reassuring smile, meeting Jean's own shocked stupefaction - slowly calmed his nauseously churning stomach as he allowed himself to breathe once more. 

"H-Holy... _shit_ , Armin, how did you...?" Jean stammered, rendered into a flummoxed, overawed state. 

"I was supposed to be on patrol last night, but Levi dismissed me before midnight, weirdly enough," Armin explained, tucking the documents into their protective pocket and hanging the skirt onto the rack. It was scary to consider the only thing keeping Levi from discovering their plan was firstly floorboards of a decrepit church, now secondly a thin piece of fabric hidden in plain sight. "There was a nagging thought in my head that he was onto us, so I kept an ear out. I heard him mumbling something about a fire and the church, so I managed to get out there and come back in the base with these without Levi noticing." 

Truthfully, Armin wouldn't _ever_ tell his ecstatically proud lover that he smelled the smoke during the night, then waited for an opportunity to sneak into the fire and retrieved the papers. He'd never recount the rush of adrenaline he suddenly felt upon walking into the blazing place he and Jean had made so many memories in. How it made him ignore the hot smoke on his face or embers under his fingertips that still stung today as he pried open the floorboards, he would check every single day. He'd never detail how he'd washed himself and his clothes to rid all evidence of smoke lingering on the fabric or his skin, keeping an eye out for Levi's movement from the river at the bottom of the hill. 

"You seriously don't know how incredible you are," Jean raked his fingers through his hair, grinning wildly at the blonde. "You're just...God, I swear I'm going to get you out of here, and I'll make it up to you for the rest of your life, as you deserve." 

The last thing Armin assumed Jean would dare do while inside of the base, hidden in Armin and Eren's shared bedroom with the threat of anybody walking into the room at an uncertain time, was wrap and compress him into a beatific, grateful hug. Armin would have loved to purblindly accept the hug without an intense surge of paranoia. He craved for that day. That didn't stop Armin from returning affection - especially after intuiting every smidgen of mar, of relief, of fear, of euphoria coursing through Jean and threatening to drive him insane if this momentary contact didn't restabilise him. 

"You don't need to make it up to me..." he dismissed quietly. 

"Heh, don't be stupid, of course, I do," Jean reasoned quietly in partial disbelief. Delicately cupping the back of Armin's head, hand cloaked and interwoven within the strands of his hair, Jean squeezed him tighter against him like it would be the last opportunity he'd have. "Don't act like this was some minor, nonchalant thing you decided to do." 

It would have been easy just to slowly and wilfully lose conscious observation of the world deteriorating around them, but that would have brought more danger than momentary pleasure. Armin couldn't bring himself to enact the first move. "We're going to get into trouble..." his warning migrated and embedded itself within the tightly woven fabric of Jean's shirt to remain ignored. Being alone in the same room was risky enough with Levi on their cases. 

Begrudgingly, Jean released him but kept him close within arm's length. "How in the _hell_ did you manage to sneak out again without Eren hassling you?" Jean incredulously queried. The possibility of Eren not noticing Armin, leaving their shared bedroom at night was next to none. Perhaps their feigned reformed close friendship had mellowed Eren somewhat, but Jean would bet his life that Eren was his usual shitty self in his core. Watching their increasingly frequent interactions around the base was like watching a flame consume the fuse of dynamite. 

"Since Eren's night terrors were starting to annoy him, Levi, uh, asked Hange to drug Eren every single night. Otherwise, he becomes incredibly restless. He's out cold ten minutes after he drinks it until the next morning so I was able to leave without waking him," Armin suddenly lowered his voice, hesitating. "I wasn't supposed to know because he can get into trouble for 'interfering with the specimen', and Levi said he'd cut my throat if the revelation spread, so please, don't say a word." 

Years ago, if Armin requested he kept this secret - which, in itself, seemed like an unspoken assumption - Jean would probably be offended that he didn't trust him. Now, he understood the significance of his request was not due to distrust, but to fear. Jean would more than likely react similarly to Armin. 

"I won't say anything to anyone, don't worry," Jean promised, and despite this emphasis, Armin's troubled expression barely budged. "In all seriousness that'll be useful, so Eren won't hear me walk down the hallway. We just need to figure out how you're going to evade Levi, though..." 

"We can't evade him. It'll be impossible from here on out," Armin corrected, crushing any sliver of hope Jean had of finally escaping the Survey Corps before the mission. 

"You're right...unfortunately," Jean rubbing his forehead stressfully. "I don't see why he's so insistent on keeping us around when he's so obviously suspicious of us. I get that he needs us for the mission next week, but he's got nothing to lose by recruiting others." 

"He needs us because he specifically asked _us_ , not to mention we're predictable and he trusts that if we need to, we can handle ourselves. Who _knows_ what he's going to do after the mission, though," the blonde considered. "He'd probably have our heads the moment we're back on base. Even though there's no longer any tangible proof, there's no way he doesn't know that we've been hiding something in that building."

At Armin's logical point-of-view, Jean cringed. "You might not want to jinx us," he responded with careful circumspection. If anybody's mindless thoughts had the opportunity to become a reality, those thoughts would most definitely belong to Armin. Never had Armin thought they'd arrive at a twisted, wry stage in their life when they'd be discussing their deaths by Levi's hand in such a disassociated manner. "You've probably been thinking about the best course of action, right?" 

"You may not think it's practical, though..." he trailed off. Whatever he thought of clearly was definitely not ideal or confidence-inducing to Armin. 

"Why not?" Jean questioned, frowning at the lack of confidence in his judgement. 

"Because it'll be risky with no margin for error. The only way we can escape now is to obey Levi until we arrive in town then slip away before he or the group the Survey Corps paid can catch us," Armin countered. "If you remember the map Levi showed us during the briefing, there's a small alley behind the Townsquare where we can meet to force Levi to lose sight of us. I can't think of any other possibility aside from abandoning the mission in the middle of its duration. It'll be risky because not only do we have Levi watching us like a hawk, we have groups that are going to be competing for our capture." 

Swallowing thickly and anxiously grinding his teeth, Jean couldn't help but focus on the lack of margin for error. He didn't respond right away, holding the breath he'd just drawn stationary in his throat as somebody - probably not Levi as he would fling open the door quicker than Armin could come up with an excuse as to why they were together in his room - walked past the room. Meanwhile, Armin searched between his eyes, drinking his hesitance and frustration. 

"I hate it, I really do, but I can't think of a better or more logical plan that doesn't involve waiting another couple of weeks. Provided that everything goes smoothly with the mission, of course," Jean heavily sighed, rubbing his temples stressfully. 

"Don't overthink it. If we're cautious, I really believe we'll be successful," Armin asserted."Or, if we're lucky, he'll leave the premises relatively quickly so we don't have to attempt to evade him!"

Casting his wariness aside, Jean decided to take the plunge and accept whatever Armin had to offer. The blonde's valuable intuition never failed them in the past, so what type of person would Jean be to question him now? Perhaps Jean's fear, coupled with the outrage over the sudden arson on the church and paranoia about becoming exposed with every passing second Levi may or may not know their secret clouded his own judgement. 

"Fine. Just...take a weapon or a small part of your blade that you can smuggle. If something does happen, you're able to protect yourself easily," the brunette added - though sounding less suggestive and more demanding. It was logical to suggest extra protection for Armin's significantly weaker stature; however, the suggestion emerged from the depths of Jean's heart where his anxiety pools like a small ocean. Failure - accidental or not - would not be an option for Jean. He wouldn't know how to handle the knowledge that Armin was hurt or, worse yet, killed because he wasn't able to protect himself. 

"I will. I'll keep a small combat dagger with me," he promised gently. Armin anticipated Jean nagging and stressing about his abilities handling a knife during combat. Still, instead, he accepted while looking so tense and rigid.

"Good," Jean nodded but noticed the sudden hesitance at his own plan caused Armin not to be calmed nor quelled by the taller boy's answer. "I trust your judgement, Armin, I swear I do. It's just hard not to be scared. Disobeying Levi's plan would probably be the second most dangerous thing we can do in our position. Still, if it allows us to give one 'fuck you' to the Survey Corps once and for all, that'll make us valiant, right?"

Armin didn't care where his determination came from as long as he was willing to follow his plan, paying no mind to the increased mortality rate or the concrete reliability. "Right," he accepted. 

"Now that we have a confirmed date, the more I want to put this off even more," Jean nervously admitted before paling and rescinding his assertion. "I-I mean, I'm still all for leaving! Don't get the wrong idea!"

"I know. I understood what you meant," he replied. The blonde always knew Jean was unbelievably anxious under his hard exterior - he was no different, after all. Armin opened his mouth to continue but the telltale sign of Levi unceremoniously opening the door and stomping down the hallway instantly frightened the words he was going to say. "Stick with the plan. We can talk more when we get another moment," Armin quietly urged before signalling they needed to leave the room quickly.

Besides; they were the two that caused Levi to lash out and burn the church, so finding themselves in more trouble would be undesirable. Needless to say, 'another moment' before the mission would be difficult to come by. In hindsight, Jean wasn't sure why he gambled on the possibility of spending an extra second with Armin sorting out the details. Contented was probably the exact last word to describe the mood. Jean had waited so, so unbelievably long for this day but now that it was on the horizon in less than 48 hours, he couldn't have been more terrified. 

* * *

"I'll go through the plan once more. Pay attention," Levi demanded, raising his voice above the crowd's chattering. 

The day finally arrived where they would disobey and abandon everything they had dedicated their lives towards for the past three years. The time for defending their right to live peacefully without fear of harm from their former friends and their destructive leader. Doubts had plagued Jean especially for quite a long, long time - eternally waiting for a preconceived 'right' time with an absentee definition was his own idea of personal hell. Now that Jean was standing where he'd pictured himself in his dreams over the past few months...he was dead terrified. Jean and Armin were about to screw this whole operation Levi nonconsensually involved them in. 

Right in front of his cold, callous eyes, too. 

His knees were weaker than they'd ever been, even compared to after an eight-hour training session that left him numb and exhausted for weeks. Most of the physical effects of fear were hidden beneath his Survey Corps cape, leaving Jean to focus all of his energy into forming a false expression of undying loyalty that would fool Levi. Next to him, Armin hadn't uttered a single word since they'd left the base for the last time. Because he was so focused on the thoughts swirling inside his mind, Jean refrained from asking if he remembered everything or whether he was okay. Plus, he probably already knew the answers. 

_"Repeat the plan once more, so we both know what's happening, okay?" Armin had requested - voice hushed from the fear of having their secret alternative plan reverberating all through the soundless, but anything but tranquil, building - moments before leaving by horse and carriage. Constantly fiddling with the itchy wig that weighed his head down, and tugging at the shirt that hugged him a little too tightly around the waist with not enough tightness around the chest, Armin appeared wan from a sleepless, stressful night. His bright irises juxtaposed remarkably against his sunken eye bags as he stared, wide-eyed and ruminative, out the window._

_It was clear that methodically running through their sinful escape would calm whatever storm swirled inside him...at the cost of Jean's emotionally charged stated, however. Jean recited the very last letter he would ever write to his mother - one with false assurances of his well-being and the long life ahead of him - as a hidden, personal farewell. The letter would comfort her momentarily before filling her with despair when the Survey Corps would inevitably arrive on her doorstep to tell her that her only child was missing. Jean was never a formidable son, but he loved her, and the thought of her grieving him through a lie was heinous._

_Refocusing his attention on Armin, his agitation was quelled with complete silence and rhythmically pacing across the floor to give him something to focus on._

_In short, they were both fucking terrified to enact this tattered, revised Frankenstein of a plan to fruition. Scouts planning to disobey Captain Levi's orders and ultimately escape the harsh consequences was utterly unheard of throughout the entirety of his commander career. No matter how brilliant they thought they were, the chance for Levi to be one step ahead of them was a real possibility._

_From the moment they would disobey Levi's strict orders in the town square in what seemed like the most important mission of their lives, they would be dead men walking._

_"Alright..." Jean mumbled, "We, um, we wait for Levi to signal for us to separate. Then, we discard our capes. I'll meet you in the alley that's near the entrance of the Townsquare, right?'_

_"Yes," Armin confirmed._

_"Great. Then, we'll ditch our disguises that Levi expects to see is in before we carefully make our way out of the Townsquare where we, hopefully, won't be found by anybody who wants us dead," Jean grimly concluded. Somehow, discussing the plan once more put Jean at ease. Or rather, observing that Armin had somewhat relaxed in turn relaxed him._

_"Thank you. I appreciate it," Armin commended. Judging from how drastically his eyes and posture relaxed, he had somewhat reassured him, which was always worth the stress in Jean's opinion._

Immediately interrupting their conversation, Eren retrieved them later driven by Levi's orders to summon them for the mission. The ingenuine needless chatter Eren plagued Armin with flared his anxiety once more, rocking between politely responding like a good friend would do and1 succumbing to his nerves and rudely telling Eren to shut his mouth. Needless to say, the silent carriage ride with Levi that Armin occupied himself by impatiently counted each individual mile per minute felt as though the journey took minutes. Future actions weighed heavily on both of their minds, probably more so Armin, who most definitely replayed the plan on repeat in his head through the night. Levi's plan that he'd repeated six times more than he usually would fly hollowly through Jean's ears. 

"Do either of you have any questions?" The end of his monotonous speech rudely halted their thoughts. Instead of focusing on their Captain, the crowded area flooded with citizens occupied their attention. The Townsquare held the marketplace - thus, plenty of places to hide and evade his watchful eye. The opposing ends of the Townsquare had the designated pick-up points. Which would undoubtedly force them apart the moment they entered the crowd at Levi's signal. 

"No. We're ready, Captain," Armin volunteered softly under the raucous crowd. 

"Fine. Go, and quickly," he ordered, turning to face the crowd immediately with a scowl. But, before they did, Levi stopped them. Forcefully tugged back by their shoulders, they found themselves by Levi's side once more. "We're counting on you, so do _not_ fuck this up. If you successfully complete this mission, your punishment for whatever you sneaks were hiding in the church will be greatly lessened, granted you survive this," Levi hissed his warning into both of their ears, then released them to be swallowed up by the hungry mouth of the crowd. 

It was at this time the scouts realised that they weren't secretly fraternising and scheming behind Levi's obliviousness. Levi had _known_ they were hiding something integral. Neither of the boys dared to pull a face in case Levi was bluffing no matter _how_ ill they felt over the thought of punishment as a reward for their success. 

Their captain was so typically cruel that Jean wasn't sure why he was stunned by his threat; an encouraging or comforting pre-mission pep talk had never fallen from his lips even disguised within an insult. It didn't matter as this would be the last time to hear it either by escape or death. Jean possessed many choice words, phrases, and insults to viciously throw at Levi like he was aiming to break him, but Jean kept quiet; if everything proceeded according to plan (for the long term), they wouldn't need to worry.

"That's an incentive if I've ever heard one," Armin muttered under his breath. "How much do you think he knows?"

Jean grimaced with a bitter smile. "Hopefully nothing. I'll bet he's going to sift through the rubble until he finds something to incriminate us if we succeed," he decided, glancing over his shoulder to see Levi icily staring at them, deciphering the perfect time to relay his signal. 

"No wonder he didn't follow Erwin's orders to clean it up. Not to mention now that he believes we'll be gone for an uncertain amount of time if the plan persists, then Levi has free access to inspect our rooms," Armin added. The crowd closed behind them, already beginning to jostle them apart unwillingly. Any (unwilling) attempt to separate from Jean was futile as the taller boy grabbed his cape to keep him by his side. Their steps slowed, forcing the human traffic to swerve around them, but that was the least of their concern.

It didn't last long, however. Armin heard Jean click his tongue in annoyance. "Fuck, we've gotta move now," he instructed as Levi gave them the signal to part and made their own way to the respective pick-up points. Like the shaky, agitated feeling Armin experienced as though he were performing this mission in front of thousands of observers, Armin felt as though he was _severely_ disorganised would mess _everything_ up - even though he had prepared for this moment.

"Okay..." Armin sighed, tongue and throat suddenly dehydrated from nerves. 

Armin was too afraid to say anything or initiate the physical separation because of the feeling of utter dread. He wanted to remain calm and collected until he was certain they were safe. Hopefully, Levi didn't see them hesitate, or the hold Jean had on him, because that would be _more_ than incriminating. 

But when Jean looked at him like he couldn't bear to let him go, Armin almost lost focus and threatened to deviate from their cautious plan to a spontaneous, reckless escape. 

"I love you, okay?" Jean held the cape tighter as though Armin would be scooped up and stolen from him in that instance. "No matter what happens." 

The lovestruck, irrevocably melancholic smile Armin returned to him hurt Jean's heart in a way he never thought it would hurt. Plainly, Armin was terrified he would ruin the only chance they'd ever have for themselves. While Jean would have loved to take a second in order to build up his confidence, they didn't have the luxury. Would the reward be worth the risk? It seemed so easy and less stressful at fifteen with their wishful whispers concealed within their bedsheets. Part of them assumed they'd perish with the Survey Corps so living out their fantasy was foreign. 

"Yeah. I love you, too," Armin murmured under the noise, but Jean was still able to hear him, clear as day. 

The utterly terrified, tearful, and timorous expression was the absolute last thing Armin would have liked his lover to see on his face, but his emotions momentarily outweighed his rationality. Slight confidence exuded from Armin just days ago when he presented this plan to Jean; but where the hell did that credent boy go? Realistically, there was no time to catch his panicked breath or force his anxious tears back into their home in his tear ducts. People, dangerous people that the Survey Corps had no business trusting, were probably swarming Armin as he gathered his thoughts, so he walked, with Levi's eyes acting as his bright spotlight...

Meanwhile, everything inside of Jean was vociferously punishing him for a multitude of things. The first and primary scalding berate his mind loomed over him was his treachery. Many oaths, many vows - in binding writing and in ephemeral speech - were no more because of Jean's actions. He had to come to terms with the decision he made today; a target - shiny, circular, and screaming for a sword - had been exposed across his back the moment he removed his cape. He awaited for karmic retribution to strike him down in the form of Levi's sword or the wrath of God himself.

But nothing came. 

Not when he removed his cape to carefully and oh so assiduously tie it to a rickety pole behind a stall, watching the dark green eyesore flutter in the wind. Not when he (thankfully) blended into the crowd. Not even when he cast daring glances behind him towards Levi's post where he was inevitably rapidly searching between the meeting places before grazing visually across all corners of the civilian crowd. Just the simple fleeting glance of Levi's face was enough to Jean to see how irrefutably enraged he appeared. The palpability of Levi's anger only affected Jean; if anybody unfamiliar with Levi observed his expression, they would assume nothing. 

Ignoring Levi for the moment (which was next to impossible to do without expelling the fear that he'd be discovered just by the sound of his rapidly beating heart), Jean focused on his subsequent challenge of locating and retreating to the alley where he and Armin agreed to meet. Jean never received another opportunity to peruse the map. Hence, he prayed the alley he was entering, conveniently filled with crates to hide behind but was lacking Armin's presence, was the one Armin referred to. 

So, Jean decided to wait...but his restlessness was proved to wait patiently difficult. Having no indication of where Armin's possible whereabouts were within the crowd, Jean concluded with one of three ruminations. The first: Armin was dutifully more cautious than Jean was and was slowly making his way to their meeting location. The second: Armin was similarly restlessly waiting for Jean in a completely different alley. The third, and the one Jean couldn't stop frantically obsessing over: Armin was captured. 

Jean shook his head to will the thought from his mind and instead focused on the musty, rotting smell of the wooden crates he crouched behind. The chatter of the civilian crowd seemed to get louder and louder the longer he crouched in the alley - only interrupted by the sudden cacophonous clang of the clock tower's giant bell. Jean counted twelve long chimes of the bell, indicating the shift from morning to afternoon. While civilians' stomachs would growl with hunger just in time for lunch, Jean's own was tossing and turning restlessly within his belly. Even the warmth of the sun slightly penetrating the shadowed space did nothing to calm him because what was _taking_ Armin so long?

Truthfully, Jean could have been waiting for less than thirty seconds before his anxious impatience overwhelmed him. The clock tower didn't display a mechanical clock face or a sundial that was common in smaller, archaic villages. Levi generously allowed them at least five minutes (probably to account for the natural hesitance from the pressure) to arrive at "Historia's" and "Eren's" trading points. 

It would have been reckless to submerge back into the crowd, and even more reckless to sneak over to "Historia's" designated pick-up point to search for him. Jean still found himself carefully creeping towards the opposite end of the alley to make that journey. 

Thankfully, Jean didn't have to wait long. 

Flying into his vision like a high-speed bullet, a flushed, fatigued, and heavily panting Armin stumbled around the corner. After stressing for what felt like hours, Jean couldn't even begin to voice his gratitude...especially after noticing his unfortunate state of disrepair. His heart thumped with such relief that it painfully reverberated in his ears. Although, whoever had encountered Armin had managed to tear the skirt's fabric, rip the top three buttons off of his shirt, and very obviously displaced his wig. Armin looked a little wild, and even more so up close when he'd frantically motioned behind himself.

Then Jean heard rapid footsteps and voices. _Angry_ voices that made Armin wince. 

Realising that Armin may have narrowly escaped a chase with somebody who was still pursuing him, Jean pulled him behind the stack of crates he emerged from, heart caught in his throat with fear. They pressed themselves against the wall, trying to morph into a perfect ninety-degree angle to blend within the brick wall's intersections to avoid them. Luck must have been on their side because nobody entered the alleyway. Morbidly curious, Jean would have loved to know what Armin did to cause their anger, but he wasn't about to interrogate his lover while he was recovering from the chase. 

"Th...Thank God you're here..." Armin stammered breathlessly, voice soft and airy from exertion.

Gripping his arms as if Armin couldn't balance himself without assistance, Jean's emotions muddled in a chaotic mixture of relief that he'd arrived in one piece and a little fear towards thinking someone had seen Armin run in here. "What the fuck happened to you? Are you alright?" 

"A-Another group Levi was considering selling us to was told about the trade and decided to show up to intercept us," Armin explained softly, adjusting the pale blonde wig with ginger movements as his palms were grazed raw from his fall. Armin rapidly expelled his words as he attempted to combine as much information as possible in his lack of steady breathing and heart rate. "I got grabbed as soon as I took my cape off so I p...presume they were probably trailing us the wh-whole time. Don't worry, though, I didn't lose anything important-" 

"-don't worry about that! Just be thankful that you're okay," Jean interrupted under the opinion that regardless of what they needed to survive in the future, Armin's safety was paramount. "Take a second to catch your breath. I want to get out of here as soon as possible." 

Regaining some semblance of composure wouldn't be difficult for Armin. Still, to Jean, the expression on his face, aside from general weariness, he looked perturbed. Upon further investigation, Jean's heart halted with bilious alarm the moment he noticed blood faintly staining Armin's trembling hands and the cuffs of his sleeves. His first thought was complete disgust and confusion about the type of untrustworthy criminal who would use merciless violence against "Historia" that transformed into anger targeted towards Levi willingly putting them in such a dangerous situation. Merely imagining Armin weakened and subdued in combat made Jean wish he had initially been disregarded Levi's plan and stuck together instead. 

"Hey, you're hurt!" Jean frantically pointed out. Hesitant to touch Armin, Jean's hands hovered over his body, visually deducing where he was bleeding. 

"I'm okay," Armin halted, albeit, his voice tremoring did nothing to convince Jean anything other than the adrenaline running through his veins acting as a pain suppressant. 

"Bullshit, Armin, you're not okay; you're bleeding!" Jean insisted on removing his disguise shirt, revealing a completely different one underneath, and tearing a large piece of fabric off in order to attend to his wounds. "Show me." 

"I'm not bleeding, this isn't mine," Armin retorted more forcefully, attempting to appear as convincing as he could muster. "They were using a lot of force to overpower me, so the easiest way for me to escape was to stab them with the knife I brought. I-I know I should have tried some other way to escape, but it seemed impossible. I was really scared, and I panicked and did the first thing I could think. But I'm okay, I really am, and I'm so happy you made it here safely and..." Armin's voice cracked as his bottom lip unconsciously trembled. That was all Jean needed to understand just how overwhelmed he was and had been for a long time before today. 

"...you did the right thing," Jean inspirited. "You don't need to justify yourself to me. I would have done that same thing." 

"...thank you," he accepted, feeling a touch more confident and determined. "Let's keep moving." 

They each had a different shirt on underneath just to appear different on their top halves because Levi would be monitoring from a slightly higher distance and he would only be expecting to see their disguised selves. Hopefully, Levi would remain frantic enough to not abstractly scan the crowd or notice them as they escaped. Equating the surge of liberty of removing his blood-stained, ruined shirt to a snake shedding its skin, Armin discarded the article of clothing inside of an empty crate alongside Jean's shirt and his wig. The arch separating the Townsquare and the neighbourhood was in eyesight. Armin could practically smell the chimney smoke and taste the freshly cut grass on the back of his dry tongue and parched throat. 

Yet, despite the freedom flirting with his fingertips, Armin's heart pounded anxiously throughout the entire process, mind centred around the single thought of maintaining his feminine disguise for the rest of his life. Hesitance clutched to his shoulder like an angel emulating his wings of freedom calling and begging him to reconsider abandoning the Survey Corps and his oath for sin and his equally as treacherous lover. 

Seeing Jean next to him appearing just as nervous and just as apprehensive, fists and jawline hardened at the thought of escaping the alley, their temporary safe haven, comforted Armin. "How are you feeling?" Armin realised while caught up in his struggles, he never asked for Jean's wellbeing. 

Jean looked all but impuissant, no matter how strong he attempted to be. "Ready for this lifetime to be a distant bad dream," he stonily replied. 

"Mm, me too," Armin empathised. "Do you mind cutting the wig first? Then I'll be ready to go when you are." 

"Of course," Jean accepted, accepting the knife Armin pulled from under his skirt's hem. Dried blood, inefficiently and assumedly hurriedly cleaned by Armin's old shirt, rusted the handle and the bottom of the blade. To Jean, this was iron-flavoured relief of Armin's life. Regardless of the situation forcing Armin to react with violence, Jean knew this would haunt Armin for months, perhaps even years, to come. Casting the thought aside, for the time being, Jean watched as Armin effortlessly glided the wig's hair from its ponytail and cascade loosely over Armin's shoulders. 

"Just like I showed you yesterday," he instructed softly, firmly holding the top of the wig to his head as he felt the knife's rough movements through the hairs. Reminding himself that any discomfort he would feel would be temporary until his hair grew to an acceptable feminine length, Armin patiently waited until Jean was finished and watched as he discarded the ponytail in the crate with their old clothes. 

"It isn't perfect, but we can fix it later," Jean mentioned as he studied his less than smooth handiwork. 

Hopefully - truly and honestly hopefully - Armin's disguise would be enough to fool those around him for the rest of their lives. "If it'll help people not question our identities, then it's perfect," he reasoned. Armin brushed the wig's bangs to the side on a slight angle to complete the look.

Jean refixed his gaze from the wig to the exit, taking on a more troubled expression. Armin, on the other hand, tried not to think about the small but fatal window they had to walk from their hidden location to the entrance of the neighbourhood. The opening of the alleyway was a daunting, nauseous sight. Though the small margin of the Townsquare brought them momentary solace, gathering the courage to step out from the brick and cement safety was difficult.

"I'll try and see what Levi's doing from here. Maybe we can wait a little longer if he's still trying to find us," Jean offered, cautiously approaching the edge and painfully aware of Armin right on his heels to be immediately fed the information the moment Jean acquired it. Levi remained in the same place as he had been at the commencement of the mission. This time, however, there was no confidence in his expression. It didn't show on Levi's face, but Jean had been a member of his Squad for long enough to realise when he was panicked. Levi was incredibly stressed to the point where he was frantically searching for his very well-concealed inferiors within the crowd. 

Clearly, losing sight of his decoys was the absolute worst-case scenario he could have imagined. 

"What's happening?" Armin asked softly.

"I saw him like this after I got rid of my cape. Levi's still trying to find us, and it doesn't look like he's going to relent anytime soon because he's so frantic..." Jean explained while gladly walking away from the opening and leaning against a crate. "I guess we could stay for a little while longer, but we look suspicious enough as it is..."

The prospect of waiting held two possibilities: Levi or one of the groups he's affiliated with would comb through the crowd and every nook or cranny the Townsquare hid, or somebody who was a fan of the Survey Corps (a rarity, nowadays) noticed their suspicious movements and reported them. Armin felt so dizzy confronted with the flummoxing issue. He was unsure whether the malaise was a result of him not eating properly out of nerves or the pure state of the nerves themselves. But they needed to take this risk because remaining stationery was proving to be akin to a death sentence. 

"I really believe that Levi will wait around for as long as he needs until he knows for sure we're not here anymore," Armin softly advised. 

"You're suggesting we go?" Jean prompted in slight disbelief. 

"We don't have any other choice. We have to eventually," he urged. 

Jean knew that was Armin's method of implying that they either moved now, or they wouldn't move at all. He attempted to channel his desires to possible outweigh the crippling pressure he felt, and abided by Armin's lead. "...fuck it, let's go, then," Jean finally agreed. 

Once Armin's lightly blood-stained, subtly trembling, sweaty and hot to the touch hand took the initiative to slip into his own, exchanging a suffocating squeeze of encouragement, Jean didn't have the intention ever to let him go. The mutual support gave them the supplementary push they needed. 

Then, like cowardly mice deciding to leave their home within the interstitial space of the walls despite a prowling, clandestine feline, they stepped out of the alley to immerse themselves in integrating with their new life while hiding from their old horrors. Walking through the crowd after willingly stripping themselves of their wings was a new feeling of fleeting freedom that Armin had never experienced before...even though he felt everybody in the crowd staring at them. At him. In actuality, nobody was, and he could physically see they weren't. Still, it was hard to thrust himself into his disguised gender without a little insecurity. 

The natural flow of traffic allowed them to conveniently merge and blend in a better position to find the exit eventually. Acting as though nothing was amiss was difficult while squashing the urge to look at Levi staring intently at the crowd like he was trying to catch their scent. Armin's eyes quickly scoped a trail they needed to follow in order to reach their new safe haven. 

"Just up ahead, over there," Armin subtly gestured, inviting Jean to observe the path for himself. He had to squint in the sunlight, but he could see it, and he'd never been more relieved in his life. 

One of the pick-up points - the one Armin had been instructed to arrive at - had to be passed in order to exit. It was completely vacant, much to Armin's surprise. Even after he escaped the group's clutches the first time, he assumed at least one or two members would be lurking. At the same time, a majority positioned themselves in the crowd to search for "Historia" again. No horses, or carriages, or carts were remotely close by, either. Armin balked, walking closer to Jean and limiting his movements lest the tear on his skirt becomes prominent and recognisable. Though he continually reminded himself that they were searching for "Historia" and "Eren", Armin remained vigilant for familiar faces that may not be fooled by a shortened wig and a different shirt. 

Disconcerted murmuring from the crowd broke his concentration. Jean couldn't contain the desire to follow the crowd's troubled eyes to find them all pointing towards Levi, in his previous position near the sidelines of the Townsquare, was now surrounded by various murderously irritated looking men. The civilians' reactions intrigued Jean; were they not used to public outbursts as such? Were they aware that Commander Levi from the Survey Corps was involved in the hostile situation? Jean didn't want to risk mingling within the crowd to watch his commander deal with the men because it was safe to assume Levi would be sufficiently distracted from their movements in order to deal with the group. 

Not to mention that one of the men's white shirt sleeves was dyed ruby with his own blood, suggesting that _Armin_ was also responsible for their indignance. 

"What's happening?" Armin was so, so tempted to watch the scene too, but Jean painted the scene (obscuring anxiety and guilt-inducing details) to keep them moving. 

"It looks like the group Levi was supposed to trade us with found him, and they're arguing pretty overtly over there," Jean replied. He cringed as their yelling became louder and a sense of urgency overcame him. "Come on; most people are leaving now. We can blend with the crowd."

A plan that safe and secure would have been absolutely perfect had Armin not overheard a horrified gasp mere feet from them. "Someone's bleeding..." a woman observed quietly, suddenly forcing Armin's blood ran cold. "It's probably the Survey Corps' doing. I saw a girl with the wings walking around before."

"There's always bloodshed when they're around. One day, they're going to get civilians injured or killed when they mess with the wrong people," another woman, hand in hand with a child who she protectively ushered closer to her side, uttered. "Let's leave before someone else gets hurt." 

Both of the women sounded, and looked, disgusted by the soldiers' presence. It was strange hearing what civilians' honest opinions were without being in uniform to either mask their true thoughts or immediately protect themselves from violence and abuse. The rowdy commotion caused a large majority of the crowd to turn and stare - and Jean found it utterly fascinating to be among those eyes that once stared at him with such vitriol, annoyance, and population-wide odium. It was satisfying watching false promises and hospitality disappear on Levi's face as he morphed into a borderline wild animal on high alert as though he expected them to attack him at any moment. 

Jean was ready to follow the lead of a majority of the departing villagers, most of who had children in their possession, but found Armin completely rooted to the spot to spectate the event. It was impossible to tear Armin's eyes away from the observable scene, especially when the chief detail he discovered was the furiously disgruntled, yet uncomfortable and pained, face of the man Armin had stabbed and fled from earlier. 

Even though Armin _knew_ his violent act was out of self-defence, and he _k_ _new_ it was completely and utterly necessary for his survival, his more pragmatic heart couldn't bear to part from the oath he'd sworn. Armin couldn't decipher their words, but he could imagine they'd be accusing Levi of setting them up just to steal the necessary funds for the Survey Corps. He could feel the chagrin, and the betrayal, and the affront, and most of all, the fury emanate off of Levi like heat off a blazing flame. Nothing could bring warmth or feeling into his insensate body, not even Jean's hand tightly holding his own.

If Levi averted his eyes a single inch, he would spot the pale and peccant face of his weakest soldier. He, both of them, would be in trouble, in _utterly_ deep shit. Levi would charge forward and take his revenge on both of them before either of them would detect the slight flicker of his eyes. Armin could practically smell the thick scent of blood - blood and injury that _he_ caused - made him hyperaware of his own rushing through his arteries. 

Fear clutched Armin's ankles and rooted him to the spot. Strength evaporated from his muscles, slowly consumed with thoughts that he deserved to be caught and killed, until Jean was suddenly in front of him, holding his shoulders tight and partially concealing him from the commotion. 

"Armin, focus, look at me," Jean demanded, admittedly quite harsh in delivery. "You still want this, right? 

"Y-Yeah," he confirmed, voice wavering as he paralyzed more with Levi's frantically furious and bemused expression. The tumult Levi had been wrapped up in became trapped within his fears like thick felt, but Jean's voice and fiercely determined brown eyes were able to penetrate the fabric and reach him. 

"We're so, _so_ close, so let's go for it! I can't do this without you, so _please_ don't become hesitant on me," Jean pleaded. "You don't have time to feel guilty about protecting yourself because they're going to retaliate if they find us first. So, let's go before something bad happens to us." 

Jean didn't have to wait for Armin's verbal response before he reinitiated by pulling him along to catch up and seamlessly blend with the departing crowd. The ill-feeling settling in the pit of Armin's stomach probably wouldn't abandon him for a good, _long_ while, but Armin hoped, wholeheartedly hoped, that he'd be able to breathe easier after a while.

And perhaps he didn't have to wait for long. The lump that blocked Armin's throat, his speech, and his anxious despair slowly dissipated to allow him to breathe the fresh air of the village the more distance they put between themselves and Levi. The breath of the breeze's gravity pushed them out of that arch, guiding them along their blind journey. Their targets adorned to their backs remained and probably would until their last breath (granted, if they weren't discovered and brought to justice for their crimes beforehand), but it was a worthwhile trade for their Survey Corps wings. The look on Jean's face, a grin that expressed both terror and delight, enraptured Armin, hoping that his mettle would influence Armin's trepidation over time. He felt like they'd truly gotten away with this, with everything they'd hidden in plain sight over the past three years. 

Despite their respective feelings and relief, an identical thought was projected in their mind...

_...what the fuck have we done, and why does it feel so goddamned good?_


	6. We're Still Kids, After All

The moment Armin regained consciousness following the heaviest, deepest sleep he'd experienced in years, he was confused and lost. A full night's sleep was relatively scarce in the Survey Corps, yet Armin felt as though he had slumbered for an appropriate amount of time, and _then_ some. He had never felt this inert in his life - almost like was intoxicated, or had been drugged. Despite his actively dazed mind, Armin momentarily empathised with Eren; no _wonder_ the brunette was so incoherent in the early mornings. 

Behind Armin's heavy eyelids, he saw the sun's mild rays spreading over his face as if to lovingly rouse him with its warmth. It startled him, nonetheless, because the sun never reached this far through the window into his bedroom on the base. Suddenly, the possibility that he carelessly slept through Levi's wake up call, daily morning chores, and possibly their early morning training session struck him. Why had no one woken him? Why had Eren's usually careless and lethargic movements in their room not woken him up? A heavy panicked pit settled at the bottom of his stomach as his blood ran cold; there was no _way_ in _hell_ Armin would be able to compose himself for Levi's vigorous training!

When Armin opened his bleary eyes, however, he discovered no familiar features of his dorm room, or anywhere else in the base for that matter. Instead - the dark, dusty wooden walls confronted and alarmed him. Armin lifted his head from the hard wooden floor, squinting in the sunlight, and his skeleton feeling rusted and rigid from his long slumber on a hard surface as he brushed loose strands of hair from his eyes. This must have been premeditated as Armin's eyes caught sight of a woollen blanket draped over his body, which was lying on a loose white sheet. If this were a kidnap, Armin wouldn't have been treated so nicely. If this were some individual's house, Armin wasn't taking any action to hide his presence. 

But, considering that, where _is_ this place?

A gentle hand, so faint that Armin initially swore he imagined the touch, lay on his waist, making him flinch and immediately scramble away from the offending limb. The rapid movement brought him nauseous vertigo that spun the room. Still, he wasn't disoriented enough to catch the relieving sight of Jean as though he were the direly missing puzzle piece for Armin's hazy morning memory. Armin's expression must have looked quite shocked or scared because Jean appeared bemused.

"Hey, it's only me!" He greeted gently. Jean's early morning voice sounded so light and breathy, yet contained the smooth, attractive lowness Armin loved. The mellifluous sound was what the sleepy blonde needed to comprehend his words and physical presence in front of him before he could relax. Jean seemed content once Armin was, mirroring his easygoing relaxation. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay...I forgot where we were. It's not your fault," Armin mumbled in response. Voice slurring with fatigue, Armin felt his heart racing in his chest slow to homeostasis. The narcotised feeling still hasn't escaped him.

"You okay?" Jean prompted, forehead creased with slight concern. They'd spent plenty of early mornings together in the Survey Corps, whether it be patrols, meetings, or training, and Armin had never behaved in such a stupefied manner before!

"I'm okay, really," he promised while sleepily rubbing his eye. The brunette wasn't easily convinced, however. Armin felt his cheeks heat up in a blush when the back of Jean's hand pressed against his forehead to assess his temperature. "I'm not getting sick, I'm just waking up still. You don't need to worry about that!"

"Don't tell me not to worry, of _course_ I'm going to worry," Jean frowned as if indignant at Armin's suggestion. "But if you say you're okay, I can't argue with that." Jean removed his hand to rest by his side again, acquiescing to him. 

"Thanks," Armin hummed. He slowly pulled his aching, weakened body together and hugged his knees to his chest; Armin's signature sitting pose. Lazily nuzzling his cheek into his knee, Armin would have been content staring off into space if Jean's eyes hadn't curiously captured his own with an affectionate smile that Armin had no choice but to return. 

Though clouded, small moments from the day before gradually worked themselves back into Armin's memory in a more lucid way compared to when he first woke up. The memories from when he and Jean sat together under the window to the moment he woke up - still under the same window - was like a gaping black hole Armin couldn't figure out. Albeit hazy and full of tattered gaps, the moment they successfully snuck past Levi burned vibrantly in Armin's memory. The exit from the Townsquare initially had Armin almost following Jean to keep his hesitance from taking over once more. Still, both of their paces slowed when Jean realised only Armin knew the directions and allowed him to take the lead. 

Navigating through the village felt like there was a gigantic spotlight shining over them, trailing them and attracting unwanted attention. In hindsight, Armin was positive that they did not look out of the ordinary in the village, but his heart jumped into his throat whenever somebody would even so much as glance at them - no matter what emotion was shown on their face. The most difficult part occurred when they reached the house. Luckily, there were no civilians around to watch two random - and probably flustered and afraid - people take refuge inside of the neighbourhood's decrepit eyesore.

The threat of the Survey Corps following their movements didn't diminish even after they shut themselves within the house. The broken gate, nor the flimsy door and walls, nor the fogged and stained glass windows inspired calming feelings of safety. Armin found himself to be completely frozen once inside, and as Jean was closely mirroring his movements because of his wholehearted trust in Armin's intuition, he didn't dare move either. They were immovable from the front door for the evening - from midday to sunset - anxiously waiting and almost expecting a sign that somebody had discovered them.

But nobody came. 

The silence was daringly broken by Jean, who released a tense sigh amidst the penumbra settling outside and flooding the house. The sigh in the darkness somehow secured the fact that they were safe because no butterfly effect occurred afterwards. Or at all, for that matter. Their movements remained cautious, moving through the house, taking note of every floorboard creek or strange noise groaning in an unseen corner. It brought nostalgia for Armin but placed Jean on edge until he gradually understood the house better. They relied on their sense of hearing until their eyes adjusted to the darkness as they were too afraid to light the old, melted candles affixed to the wall. Frankly, Armin wasn't sure if they _would_ light if they attempted to. 

At one point, after his eyes familiarised themselves with the darkness, Armin experienced a spontaneous, heavy wave of exhaustion that left him dazed and debilitated. Pushing through the exhaustion to stay alert with Jean for the night was Armin's aim, but the feat seemed incredibly impossible because he felt like he was sleepwalking. Even now, Armin felt residual exhaustion built up even while bathed in warming and harshly bright sunlight. It was, however, easier to force himself to stay awake this morning compared to last night. 

Armin was barely able to keep his eyes open to study his surroundings, blinking against the harshness of the sunshine. The purplish leaden circles underneath Armin's eyes remained from the day before, only this time, a pinkish red-tinted his sclera and complemented his blue irises. Truthfully, once he'd caught sight of Jean with him, Armin allowed himself to take the time he needed to calm down. Some primitive survival force inside him assured him appearing vulnerable with Jean around would be okay because he was protected. Perhaps it was the new location where they were guaranteed to encounter less danger than in the Survey Corps, or perhaps their shared experience relying on each other to escape together instilled an overwhelming amount of trust in Armin towards his lover.

Jean possessed qualities of an intangible dream materialised right in front of him - so sublime slanted against the wall. Armin felt - and most likely looked - like an exhausted, sloppy mess in comparison. Nevertheless, though Armin felt was behaving like a sleepy uncomposed child in front of his arguably more prepossessing lover, Jean seemed to find him endearing judging by the mawkish smile twitch at the corners of his lips.

The window above them, subtly clouded and caked with dust in the deepest corners of the sill, illuminated everything in a divine aureate, including Jean, who had taken his shirt off at some point during the night. Glancing down at his own bare legs, Armin realised that he'd been stripped of the wig, the skirt, and his shoes that he arrived with. His mind immediately created horrifying situations of the Military Police or a random civilian discovering their unprotected states. With their citizenship documents displaying false identities with the telltale straps of their 3D manoeuvre gear marking their bodies, they would be screwed if somebody stumbled upon them. 

"We've been okay since last night. I didn't hear anything that seemed out of the ordinary in a village, and I didn't see anybody at all wandering around," Jean recalled from the night before. 

"What about this morning? Has anybody come by?" Armin glanced anxiously towards the door.

Noticing he seemed a little tense, Jean wracked his brain to think of to ease him. "No, actually. It's been pretty quiet for a while, besides hearing a group of school kids pass through the streets earlier this morning," Jean mentioned. "Everything you were wearing is over there, by the way. You pretty much fell asleep as soon as the sun set, and I thought you might be more comfortable if you didn't have... _everything_ on."

Rather than becoming mortified that Jean undressed him of his disguise while asleep, Armin felt bashfully diffident. The thought of Jean selflessly taking care of Armin without a single expectation made him happy that he was continuously thinking of him. All the clothing was folded in the exact method Levi preferred; neatly in a pile. The sight briefly inspired Armin to ponder whether the rules and regulations instilled in them for so long would continue to prosper in their new lives like an involuntary tic.

"...thank you for that," Armin responded with as much gratitude as he could muster. All in all, he was comforted by Jean's unsolicited vigilance. "I'm sorry for falling asleep too early."

"Don't apologise, I don't mind. You didn't do it on purpose," Jean dismissed light-heartedly. "Besides, you were pretty out of it last night! You're looking a little dazed even now. There's no _way_ I was waking you up - that wouldn't have been fair." 

Upon closer inspection, Jean appeared more exhausted than he had assumed and, to Armin, that wasn't fair for him to place the burden of protection and vigilance onto Jean's shoulders. "Did _you_ even sleep last night?" Armin crawled back onto the sheets to sit adjacent to Jean, interrogating his apparent nonchalance with his inquisitive blue eyes. 

"Yeah - for no more than I, and everybody else, usually does. It's easy to forget how much we barely slept on base when you're too busy with Levi's tight schedule," the brunette explained in an attempt to quell Armin's agonising wrongful blame. Not standing to see the melancholia apparent on his face, Jean cradled his cheek to tilt his head up and met his overwhelmingly dismayed eyes that never failed to convey how he felt - and in this case, how hypercritically he viewed himself. "Armin, it's _fine._ Stop making that face because I hate that you're so hard on yourself for no reason."

"It's not fine to me!" He argued back, voice heavy with self-disappointment. "I don't want you to think I'm going to become dependent on you..."

Cradling the other side of his insecure lover's face, Jean reangled his face to force him to look at him, and his sincerity, in one human package. "Hey! When the hell did I give you the indication that I would ever think that about you?"

"You didn't, but-" Armin's convictions were interrupted by Jean. 

"-then you don't need to be concerned!" Sighing, then softening to match and comfort his pitiful expression, Jean brought him closer to an emotional, lovable distance. "Adjusting is going to be hard, and I'd feel lost if we weren't at least a little dependent on each other for protection. You're still in the mind frame of thinking of your usefulness in similar terms to the Survey Corps, but you have nothing to prove to me. You let your guard down, and I think you're allowed to let your guard down; especially with me."

Jean waited for his tacit approval, delivered by Armin after a few seconds of free pondering. Armin slid his fingers across the webs of Jean's before linking and squeezing tight. "I'll probably have to get used to that..." Armin admitted before his voice lowered to a soft murmur. 

Without any warning at all, but Armin somehow was so naturally prepared, Jean leaned forward to capriciously kiss him. His mouth providing such comforting, warm pressure against Armin's within a single, closed-mouth kiss communicated emphatic relief, support, reassurance that was sufficient enough to restabilise Armin's perceived inhibitions. The habit of the quick, transient kisses Armin was used to continued to affect him as he prematurely parted from Jean. Of course, Jean immediately forgave Armin's mumble of an apology with an additional kiss on his forehead.

Though the lump in his throat from the rare unbridled affection Jean couldn't normally display aggravated him and saddened him, Armin knew - as clear as day, and as breathtaking as night - that this small moment truly indemnified everything they experienced over the past years. Armin grabbed hold of Jean's wrists, tighter, to marry his skin against his palms, desperately so. 

"What's up?" Jean prompted quietly at the action. For the first time since he had met the smaller blonde, Jean had never seen him so shy. Armin didn't detest the hands against his face, grabbing hold of Jean's wrists to marry his skin against his palms desperately so, but the irresistibly demure expression like he'd take the opportunity to hide behind those hands simultaneously beguiled and baffled him. 

"We've never...interacted like this without the threat of somebody finding us," Armin remarked, angling his head in such a way that his lips brushed against Jean's palm with his sweet, delicate words. 

"It's not a problem, right?" Jean already knew the answer, of course, but he desired to hear the response from Armin's mouth.

"No, I like it. A lot," Armin softly insisted, charming his brunette lover. 

Both as a means of comfort and excuse to physically and openly love Jean as he'd barely been able to display in the Survey Corps, Armin advanced and allowed himself to snuggle against Jean's side, nestling his head in his inviting chest. When Jean's arm draped across his shoulders to pull him closer, Armin felt an unfamiliar and resurrected flutter in his stomach. Were intimate interactions supposed to feel so decadent without the constant threats of the world plaguing them? 

Their old lives and presence on the base felt like centuries in the past. Armin half expected his surroundings to melt away as some cruel dream his consciousness created. Nothing, however, could rob him of how real Jean was next to him, and that would be what assured him of his sanity. Armin found it a little easier to breathe with his ear pressed to Jean's chest as if guided by each deep breath Jean drew in. He hadn't felt this peaceful in a very long time - not even the night before. He was never given the luxury to focus on the little treasures, but he'd cherish them from now on.

Jean's skin under his cheek, watching the soothing rhythmic pulse of his skin over his heart, almost coaxed him to sleep again, so Armin forced himself to remain alert. 

Now that his senses were gradually waking up, Armin could smell the thick dust coating the entire room, and presumably from their last visit, the upstairs and other rooms, too. Armin had never seen so much dust accumulated in one place, especially considering Levi disallowed its very existence. Being confronted with the dusty atmosphere reminded Armin that the brunette experienced these unpleasant surroundings for most of the night.

Guilt resurrected within him, hugging his body all the more tighter. "How long were you awake for last night?" Armin asked, delicate and prepared to be sympathetic. 

"...most of the night was, actually," he reluctantly admitted. "There were so many new noises compared to the silent nights on the base. Every time there was a rustle, I was convinced someone had been following us and was either watching us or biding time before ambushing us."

"Jean, you could've woken me..." Armin pressed his cheek against Jean's chest. He repeated his sentiment, albeit with more determination. "You _should've._ "

A heavy sigh erupted from Jean at the return of his wounded and insecure tone. "You were completely and utterly dead to the world. I'm pretty sure nothing I did would have woken you, even if I wanted to," he justified, hand slowly beginning to run up and down Armin's arm. 

"I don't want you to feel like you had to be scared by yourself, though," the blonde reasoned. 

"Hey, I wasn't _that_ scared," Jean grumbled, but Armin saw through his tough act. "I wasn't going to wake you up and force you to be exhausted and barely functioning so I would feel a little more secure about our situation!" 

"You'd tell me to wake you..." Armin mumbled in response to highlight his hypothetical hypocrisy. 

"And if you were in my position, if I was the one who fell asleep, you would stay awake like I did to keep an eye on things," Jean countered emphatically. "Seriously, don't dwell on this, please? I'm telling you that I don't care, so you have to believe me."

Armin couldn't really do anything but believe him. Being apart of the Survey Corps and Levi's Squad forced them to maintain a semblance of independence, assuring they wouldn't be burdensome to their teammates. Now, Armin didn't have to overexert himself to prove he was strong - especially not to Jean who he had never had to prove himself to. Nothing Armin had experienced over the past few years made him feel as secure or warm as this moment now. 

In a self-torturous way, Armin was glad they didn't take the opportunity to be so physically affectionate at the base. He knew that once his skin had become accustomed to the prolonged warmth of Jean's skin, being apart from the comforting pressure numbed him with loneliness, wanting to cry merely imagining it. 

"It's just...strange to not be on the base anymore," Armin denoted to defend his line of thinking. "To not preoccupy me with thoughts of keeping up with everybody so I don't pull the whole team down is so foreign to me. Yesterday, too, still feels imagined. I half-thought I was _still_ on the base when I woke up." 

"Is that why you looked a little scared when you woke up?" Jean guessed. 

"Yeah," Armin nodded with a slight movement as to not disrupt Jean's chin that rested on his head. The taller boy pulled him a little closer as an unspoken apologetic gesture. Closing his eyes with such contentment was a dangerous action; at any time, the scene that Armin assumed he had escaped to from the Survey Corps could disappear like a dream. Or a nightmare. "I had a realisation that I'd probably missed Levi's wake up call and panicked, so your hand was the last thing I expected to feel."

"Sorry about that," Jean apologised sheepishly, running his hand along his back. The movement emulated the one that accidentally shocked him that morning, albeit in a more comforting and accepting fashion. "I take it Levi's never shaken you or kicked you to wake you up?"

"Never. I'm usually awake because Eren makes a lot of noise when he wakes up. It wasn't his fault; the drugs Levi gave him were always too effective," the blonde informed, smiling at the cognizant tone evident in Jean's question. In the same line of thought, Armin suddenly felt culpable for abandoning Eren in their room by himself, and for placing the responsibility on Mikasa to single-handedly rouse Eren before Levi could cope with violent tendencies. Was it really fair to leave Eren alone and without the comfort or assistance, he would occasionally allow Armin to provide in the mornings?

"When you mentioned Levi drugged Eren, I remembered that I hadn't heard him have a night terror in months. His horrible, blood-curdling screams would wake everybody up, and I always felt so bad that you had to put up with him," Jean sympathised. 

"I don't know if I preferred the night terrors or the way he behaved in the mornings. Sometimes, he'd be so incoherent when he woke up that he'd be lying in bed, unable to move, and mumbling like he was speaking in tongues," the blonde recalled, voice dropping to a comfortable mumble as though the horrific and abusive memories about his friends were a nostalgic memory. "Mikasa would come in a lot of the time to help snap him out of it, which usually involved pouring water on his face or repeating his name over, and over again until Eren snapped at her. If their arguing was too disruptive, Levi would come in and be entwined in the arguing, too."

"Sounds like you had a lot of eventful mornings," Jean joked acoustically.

"Hopefully mornings here won't be as bad," he wagered but knew in his heart that being with Jean like this every day would be better than a second longer there. He was filled with such sweet gratitude. "I'm seriously relieved to be out of there, though. Are you?"

"Definitely," he agreed wholeheartedly. "As much as I feel a little bad for betraying our oath to the Survey Corps and abandoning our teammates, I think we made the right choice." Jean was silent for a moment before chuckling. "What do you think Levi said to everyone when he got back to base after realising he lost us? That asshole probably never expected us to go against his orders like that."

"He'll probably make a new rule that only he has access to weapons from now on, or that he'll search people before missions where weapons aren't allowed to ensure they aren't smuggled again," Armin predicted.

"Levi was pretty shocked to see the damage you did to that man's arm," Jean noted, heavily amused. "If...you don't mind me asking, but what did happen with the guy you stabbed? Did they ambush you in the crowd?"

A rush of cold goosebumps flared along his skin, which positively crawled at the thoughts of discussing it. "....why do you ask?" Armin couldn't disguise his hesitance. 

"After we met up yesterday, you seemed really on edge, more so than I thought you'd be, and it wasn't just because you hurt somebody," Jean explained. Luckily, his tone was gentle, reassuring Armin that he wasn't attempting to be accusatory or hide an ulterior motive. "I think you did the right thing like I said yesterday, but I want to know if anything bad happened. Something I should know about."

Armin cringed just remembering it. The event played out like a vivid, almost psychedelic blur in his brain. Recalling what exactly happened in that situation brought him back to the moment he was grabbed by a group of strange men, their grip too tight on his wrists and ankles to struggle against. Hell, he couldn't even remember how he managed to break free in order to grab the knife and defend himself. Armin's literal life had flashed before his eyes like his existence was projected onto a thin sheet over his pupils. As Armin opened his mouth to speak, he noticed how sweaty his hands had become judging by the piercing sting of the scrapes on his palms, and just how much he trembled, too. Armin wasn't sure if Jean noticed the physical side effects his request caused the blonde, but in Armin's mind, it made him more reluctant to divulge. 

Deciding discussing what happened in the full detail Jean requested would make him way too anxious and paranoid for the time being. Besides, the more Armin thought about it, the queasier he felt. Even his reaction - freezing up when confronted with the damage he had inflicted onto another human - seemed cringe-inducing to him. He would have loved to apologise to Jean for his spontaneous rigidity, but he could already hear Jean's dismissal in his head; dismissing his apology and dismissing his actions. At least Armin had recovered enough to pull himself together and finally leave with Jean.

"I don't...want to think, or talk, about it," Armin admitted after a short silence. "They didn't hurt me, and nothing bad happened."

"That's good, then. I'm just happy you managed to evade them. If even Levi didn't know what would happen to us once we were kidnapped, then I can only imagine whatever they had planned was bad," Jean reasoned.

"Jean..." Armin scolded lightly.

The aforementioned boy ruefully squeezed him tighter. "...sorry. I'll shut up about it now," he promised. "Can I at least talk about how funny I thought the look on Levi's face was? Well...it is now when we're not walking through a crowd and trying to be inconspicuous to save our lives."

Though Armin wasn't able to extract humour from the traumatic situation yet, he was at least thankful Jean was able to. "If there was absolutely no chance of ever getting caught, then I'd probably agree. But while we're technically criminals that wronged him in the eyes of the Survey Corps law, we have the potential to be discovered and killed before we register him. I'm scared of him, and I don't know if I ever won't be," he admitted. The confession probably wouldn't shock Jean. Perhaps out of the internal desire to protect them both, or perhaps because Jean's fear either burrowed deep inside of him or slowly evaporated with the sunrise, he didn't readily share Armin's sentiment...nor did he disagree. 

"Careful; I've heard that Levi can smell fear when he's close by," Jean joked back in response. The heavy doubt evident in his brooding lover's tone was weighing him down. It was typical for Armin to rely on his analytical ways to plan and problem solve, but in Jean's opinion, he deserved at least a few waking moments where he didn't overthink. 

Judging by the disapproving frown Armin gave him, pushing his arm away from its position wrapped around his shoulders to sit up and look at him properly, Jean's lighthearted method only served the opposite purpose. "That's not funny. Don't say that," he reproached. Armin wasn't sure if Jean truly understood how he detested such flippant jokes directed towards the man that made their lives a living hell for years. As though he were remedying the situation by repairing the touch barrier, Jean laced and intertwined their fingers together, pining for his attention, and his closeness. 

"Hey, lighten up a little," he cajoled gently as he reached out to tuck Armin's hair behind his ears, brushing stray strands of his messy bed hair off of his cheek. "I'm not saying we shouldn't be on guard for the next couple of days...or weeks because I don't doubt Levi will send the Military Police to the Townsquare or return to the scene and force the group to do investigative tasks. For what it's worth, I don't think we'll see Levi's Squad in the neighbourhoods. They have no business here and judging by the citizens' reactions, I doubt that they'd be welcomed or allowed to investigate without cooperation."

"It could take months, too. You know how Levi feels about the Military Police," Armin added. With the number of projects Levi's Squad had to complete, many months could pass before Levi had the opportunity to think about organising a meeting with the vicinity's assigned Military Police group. Levi supposedly despised dealing with the Military Police, which would absolutely work in their favour to lessen the risk of being discovered. 

"There's no definitive timeline, but you're right. It could be months before he decides to take action. Do you _really_ think Levi has nothing better to do than stalk us?" Jean stated, happy when Armin's smile indicated that he appreciated this joke far better than the previous one. "Let's learn our surroundings first, and the people in the village that we have to deal with, so if anything does happen, we have an advantage."

As opposed to Armin's agreement continuing the conversation, his stomach grumbled loudly as a response, interrupting and destroying the mood. The previous day piled an abundant amount of stress on Armin's shoulders that he had seemingly forgotten to eat. Scientific books Armin read in the past divulged that the digestive system ceases to work in extreme periods of stress or anxiety. Armin deduced that his body was in survival mode, and was only now calming down at the sign of safety. Though that being said, their future existence and new life in the village would be based around pure survival. Would Armin be able to handle the pressure?

"S-Sorry..." Armin mumbled, feeling mortified. He slid a hand over his belly as though his abdomen had spouted a mouth to muffle. 

"It's okay! Are you hungry?" Jean chuckled, teasing him with a good-natured attitude.

"Sort of," Armin shyly attempted to downplay his need for nutrients and sustenance, but another telltale growl exposed how empty his stomach truly was, and corrected himself. "I'm, um, pretty hungry, actually."

"I suppose we should get supplies and food - even just for a few days so we can wrap our heads around what we need to do from here. It'll give us an opportunity to scope the area out beyond what Levi allows during supply runs," Jean suggested. His self-assured leadership qualities were truly infallible; Armin found himself falling even harder for him each and every time displayed initiative. Even so, Armin's hunger wasn't forgotten as Jean gazed at him inquisitively. "What are you in the mood for?"

Confusion hit Armin before realisation dawned on him as clear as the morning sun itself; he had a choice; they were able to make choices. While free from the confines of the Survey Corps, Armin was allowed to think and act independently. And, _God,_ would he take advantage of that. 

"Not bread," Armin decided after a slight pause.

"Oh? Not bread?" Jean repeated. 

"Not bread," he confirmed with more confidence than he'd ever felt in his life. "Unless I'm completely desperate, I never want to eat a piece of gross, stale bread again." 

"Tell me about it," Jean agreed with an eye roll, and that was all the encouragement Armin needed to feel secure in his very tiny, but very necessary, decision. 

Armin sluggishly pulled himself up from the ground even though he didn't feel as tired anymore. His reluctance stemmed from the looming fact of venturing outside of where they momentarily felt safe. While he continuously reminded himself that a major aspect of leaving the Survey Corps was living a normal life, Armin couldn't shake the dread that the initial hurdle offered. 

Holding the wig in his right hand and the skirt in his left hand, Armin was confronted with the realisation that these two items would encompass his entire identity for the rest of his life. Plainly, his reality would be forever shrouded in femininity. Armin must remember to triple check his appearance every morning and maintain some sort of consistency with his manner, voice, and personality. Although Armin never had experience with women other than (most notably) Mikasa, Sasha, and Historia, they were more salient and vivacious in comparison to the 'typical woman'. 

Would leading a life without slip-ups - aiming for utter perfection - be attainable?

The first action Armin decided to perform was inspecting the hidden pockets to ensure their documents hadn't managed to slip away at some point during the night. Both sheets of paper remained in their rightful place, calming Armin's anxieties somewhat. If only hiding behind a flimsy piece of paper as opposed to a fake head of hair and a long, flowing skirt were so easy. 

Solemnly and soberly, like he was adorning himself in vulnerable amour for the battle of life-or-death, Armin stepped into the skirt, pulled the fabric up his body until the elastic waistline hugged his waist. Seeing the neat, pleated pattern hanging down and brushing his ankles filled him with newfound gratitude to Jean, knowing his clothing would be wrinkled from sleep without his consideration. The blouse he wore had faint creases, though these could easily be interpreted as naturally occurring from mundane movements. 

The wig proved to be more difficult without a mirror than Armin anticipated. If Armin recalled correctly from his first inspection of the house months ago, there were no mirrors, so Armin was forced to rely on his muscle memory, the feeling of the wig and the hairpin placement on his scalp, and Jean's reliable brown eyes. After he ensured each of his golden blonde strands were tucked under the wig's cap - tightly fastened on his head, of course - Armin nervously approached his brunette lover, who was inspecting the fireplace and bookshelves across the other side of the small room. 

"Jean?" Armin said his name so softly and so self-consciously that Jean didn't initially hear him. But, Jean ended up glancing over to him when he noticed Armin had finished dressing, completed with the cut blonde wig, and no doubt observing his uncomfortable expression.

"What's the matter?" Jean prompted, immediately casting his eyes across every inch of his body before Armin could request an inspection for approval. 

Biting his lip, Armin smoothed his skirt down for the umpteenth time to straighten any non-existent wrinkles. "Do I...look okay?" He asked. The question didn't stem from a place of vanity or self-consciousness but from wanting reassurance about his disguise. 

"Yeah. You look good; good enough to fool everyone," the brunette encouraged with as much sincerity as he could muster; for Armin's sake. 

"Are you sure?" Armin nervously fiddled with the ends of the wig, momentarily turning from Jean in an attempt to refine details. 

"I'm sure. I'd be the first person to tell you if you didn't look okay. I promised you that I'd make sure you weren't discovered the day we got out identity markers, didn't I?" Jean reminded. His promise cheered Armin up as though his determined words were enough to act as an additional, indestructible layer to his disguise. "The tear is barely noticeable when you move, and it looks easily fixable. Only the wig looks uneven and rough in some areas, but the only reason I can tell is that I cut it myself with a knife. Do you think people will see through you?"

"I'm not sure. It's entirely possible. We're two random kids that appeared out of nowhere in an unoccupied house, so naturally, people will be sceptical of us and might analyse us more harshly," Armin elucidated his worries.

"You shouldn't be worried. Your appearance is _very_ convincing," he reassured. Despite that, Armin couldn't help but continue to feel fraught; Jean wasn't the one who had to pretend to be a woman for the rest of his life so there was no way he could be empathetic to his anxieties. "Most people aren't as smart as you. Nobody's going to analyse you because a lot of people believe what others tell them at face value."

"I'll let you do most of the talking and hope that no-one notices that my voice isn't that feminine," Armin decided with Jean's avid approval.

As Jean watched Armin slowly grown content with his plan, he couldn't help but voice the looming question that plagued him. "I know this kind of seems obvious because we have been together for three years but would we tell people we're together?" Jean awkwardly asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"I suppose...yes? We don't look related, and I think nobody would believe we were two friends, cohabitating or roommates. Though, I admit, I'll probably feel a little awkward when you introduce me as your 'girlfriend'," Armin mentioned. Any ambiguous feelings that arose over the feminine term leaned towards a hard 'no'. As selfish as it may be, Armin preferred to maintain a sliver of his original identity which just so happened to be related to his shared identity (that would be referred to in private by the two of them) with Jean. 

"What should I call you then?" Jean questioned, knowing he would become nervous and possibly ruin everything if they didn't have a concrete plan rehearsed about their origin or identities. "I don't want to mess up and accidentally be put on the spot in front of people we're supposed to live among."

Curling his finger against his chin, tucking the digit just under his bottom lip, Armin scanned his brain for the perfect relationship classification and possible term of endearment before proposing it to Jean. "What about 'partner'? I've heard adults refer to their significant others as their partner. It's gender-neutral, and we're technically not lying to anybody, either," Armin suggested. 

"I think lying to a population of homophobic, Survey Corps hating civilians to protect yourself is the last thing you need to worry about, Armin," Jean caustically reminded. 

"I know, but I feel like lying so much will eventually weigh on my conscience," the blonde conceded. Why Armin suddenly felt so opposed to lying bewildered him - especially considering how often and how effortless falsities flew from his mouth during the Survey Corps - was unknown to him. His attitude and determination did not soften like butter under the hot summer sun, but the act of maintaining such a lie nauseated Armin. Perhaps novel feelings of his new identity meddled with his morals and values. On a positive note, Armin could accept his newfound aversion, which would give him the opportunity to assimilate into a domesticated life. 

Evidently, Jean discerned his aversion, too. "That's surprising coming from you, but you shouldn't feel bad," he mentioned with a shrug. "'Partner' is a good term, though. I like it."

"Thank you," Armin happily accepted. He was feeling a _lot_ more comfortable about the entire situation, but despite the security, the nerves that agitated him when he realised they had no excuses against leaving the house. 

Jean decided to be brave and propose their first movement. Reluctantly, of course, especially after witnessing how feeble Armin appeared. "...I'm ready to go when you are," he offered quietly. 

"Alright," Armin nodded slowly, hopelessly distracted. "Before we go, and I'm aware this is rushed, we should allocate a small budget for today."

"Do you still have everything we saved?" Jean clarified, somewhat mortified that he had forgotten they also smuggled money to keep them afloat for a while. 

"Of course; here," he reached into his pockets and produced the multiple sacks of cloth - tightly bound with rope and string to discourage the metal from jingling together - he had wrapped coins and notes in. The sight reminded Jean that not only did Armin have to safely transport their important documents and a weapon for protection along with the stone-like balls of their meagre savings, he also had to run away from his potential captors...and it made him so guilty. Offering Armin to surrender some of their burden to him wouldn't have changed anything that occurred with Armin from the previous day, but it may have made Armin run a little faster or eased his stress to observe his surroundings more adequately. 

Money was a topic they both avoided discussing, mainly because they were aware of many arguments in relationships and disputes between their superiors and the commanders of the Survey Corps stemmed from money problems. Armin would have liked to think that, when the time comes, they wouldn't argue despite their immature ages. But, Armin couldn't guarantee a future without calamity within such an unstable situation. Their luck may vanish and render their belly's, pockets, and fireplace empty during a damp, frozen winter night, and the blonde was not sure their frustration would remain modest. 

Armin immediately banished the hypothetical thoughts in his mind lest karma eavesdrops his thoughts and actualise his worries like a self-destructive prophecy. 

"We should find another hiding place for everything," Armin advised, never taking his eyesight off of their important belongings from the fear of their spontaneous destruction or disintegration. "It's better than carrying everything around with us all the time. If we have to pull up a floorboard like in the church, we should."

"It shouldn't be much trouble, considering how run down this place is. Are you comfortable keeping the money for now?" Jean proposed in the mind frame that their precious funds would be safer inside of Armin's hidden pockets. 

"I wouldn't mind, but...you should probably hold onto it," Armin advised. "I'm not sure if women have much financial independence or freedom. Gender doesn't really matter in the Survey Corps because all their soldiers need a small allowance for necessities. Since you're the 'man of the house', you should handle the money in public to play along with the roles."

The reality of the inequalities between the sexes rendered Jean uncomfortable. No matter how much they demonised the Survey Corps, at least they were fair to _all_ of their soldiers. "Good idea," Jean complimented. "I'm glad you're thinking abstractly because I sure as hell am not considering these possibilities. I said it yesterday, but I'll say it again; I really couldn't do this without you."

"I can't do this without you either. I..." Armin hesitated, suddenly anxious and afraid. "I want to make it. I want _us_ to make it. I _don't_ want to fail and be bombarded with second thoughts or new solutions to our problems."

"We will," Jean asserted without bothering to sugarcoat his intangible promise.

It was all Armin needed, however. "Let's go?" Armin extended the verbal offer with the addition of grasping Jean's hand and squeezing tight. 

"...okay, let's go, then," Jean spoke the damning words that acted like a match igniting the gasoline that was their fear, their anxiety, and their awe. 

Before they left, Armin couldn't help but focus on the placement of their shoes in such a familial position by the doorframe. The two pairs of shoes introduced a subtle sign of ownership to Armin. Those shoes weren't significant in any way but knowing their owners would consistently wear them every day outside of the house, roaming their new neighbourhood, and creating new trails on gravel, on stone or on grass, inspired Armin. Their footprints left marks in the dust and deep in Armin's heart he knew, just _knew_ , that everything would eventually sort itself out to ensure their safety in the long term. 

The thought of leaving their shelter to venture off into the world, experimenting with their new appearances and personas, terrified him, Armin knew that they needed to grow accustomed to their surroundings in order to be cautious. Learning the neighbourhoods, the streets, and possible escape routes and hiding places would only put them at an advantage over Levi's Squad or Military Police - who may rarely survey the area. Assimilating into normalcy was a goal both Jean and Armin strived for, so there was no feasible reason to remain holed up in their new home like scared, hibernating animals. 

The same feelings as yesterday returned the longer they lingered by the door; feeling so small and insecure within themselves, feeling as though they should be hiding in the safe shadows instead of exposing themselves to bright danger. There was, however, less urgency this time around - if Armin's pressing hunger or the need for supplies didn't contribute to their survival. Unlike that alleyway, they would return to this house again, and again. This was their new base; their new home. 

The door opened with a soft, dulcet squeak, greeting weak sunlight into the house and bidding the couple a temporary farewell. 


End file.
